


Hold On for Your Life

by Boonaddicious



Category: His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman, Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-10-13 18:59:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 67,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10519848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boonaddicious/pseuds/Boonaddicious
Summary: They say that when a man loses his daemon, he is as good as dead. For Spock of Vulcan, letting this happen to James Kirk was not an option.





	1. Distress

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Nervous Thought](https://archiveofourown.org/works/848654) by [Boonaddicious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boonaddicious/pseuds/Boonaddicious). 



> This is a rewrite of a fiction I wrote four years ago called "The Nervous Thought." While I feel it was one of the best fics I have written, it still had many flaws that made the flow pretty awful, so I decided to give it another go. The pairing, the ending, and the universe have been changed, so I suggest look at this even if you read the first story. The original story is still on the archive if you want to check that out as well.

Prologue

It was Sunday on New Plymouth and the residents of the small village had left to attend church across the valley. The only sign of life other than the animals in their pens was a young girl and her daemon running through the tall grass.

"The hour is growing later," said the daemon - whose current form was a hummingbird. "If mother and father get home and find we are not in bed with stomach flu, they will be cross."

The girl was clothed in a long prairie dress with a white apron around her waist. Her hair was bright blonde with small pink flowers forming a crown around her head. She was crouched among the grass attempting to find one of the four-winged butterflies she wanted for her collection. Their mating season would soon be ending, and this was her last opportunity before school started again.

"Stop worrying, Simeon," the girl chided softly. "Make yourself into something smaller."

"This is as small as I will get. The word around the village is that those bugs are poison."

"Then I'll be careful," the girl said, lifting her homemade butterfly net to demonstrate.

The pair continued to creep through the grass, straying ever farther from the village. The daemon changed to a mouse and crawled to hide underneath his parent's long hair.

"What are you frightened of?"

"I feel something, Annalise," the muffled voice said. "We should not go any further."

"What could possibly be out here that could scare you so bad?"

Before the daemon could answer, a screech echoed through the valley. Annalise looked to the green-tinted sky and saw glowing orange meteorite falling toward Mount Ararat.

She groaned. "It’s just a shuttle!"

"If it is, it looks like its crashing. We're not supposed to have a supply run for two months."

When the falling object disappeared behind the mountain, Annalise knew she had to agree with Simeon. The craft was coming far too fast. It was going to crash. She curled herself into a ball and covered her ears preparing for the explosion, but all she felt were the vibrations of a heavy object falling nearby.

Annalise tentatively peeked out from her hiding place and saw a large dust cloud behind a ridge. It could not have been more than a kilometer away. The smell of burning wood and ash wafted toward her and made her eyes water. There were other burning smells she could not identify, but probably came from the ship - whatever it was.

Simeon changed to a falcon and flew beyond the ridge. The distance between them caused an ache in Annalise’s chest, so she silently urged her companion to not take too long.

"The ship is covered in brush. It does not look like it has any doors or anything."

Annalise saw vague pictures in the mind she shared with her daemon. Her curiosity immediately outweighed her discomfort. She ran to the side of the ridge, peeking around the side to get a look at this ship for herself.

"Do you think it's like a being that lives in outer space, and doesn't need a ship or anything?"

Simeon had turned to a robin and landed on her shoulder. "I don't know, but I bet Dr. Weinburg would. He’s been to space."

"What if no one's seen this thing before? We could be famous, like Captain Kirk! They could name it after us and everything."

"Not if aliens made it."

"Well, we had better find out what it is, then," said Annalise, her grin widening by the second. She ignored the brambles and thorns from the unkempt grass as she ran closer to unexplored territory. The forest was known to be dangerous, but Annalise figured the large object falling from the sky would be enough to scare anything dangerous away.

She heard the transporter before she saw it. Materializing in front of her was a thin short woman in flowing silk robes in bright colors. Annalise might not have lived in a fashionable colony, but knew enough about fabric to recognize textures from at least three different worlds in this woman's outfit. They did nothing to compliment the dark yellow skin and long white hair. She recognized the species vaguely from her cultural classes in school, but her race must not have been a common one. One of her more chilling observations was the lack of a daemon. Annalise knew intellectually humans were the only race known to have them, but seeing a humanoid without a companion still filled her with unease.

"Hello, young one," the woman said with a grin which spread unnaturally across her face.

Annalise was immediately wary, but habit dictated she show some manners. "Hello, and welcome to Ararat," she recited, while Simeon bristled.

"I apologize for my abrupt entrance, but we are a bit short on fuel. Are you associated with the Federation?"

"Yes."

"So there are other humans besides you?"

//That's a stupid question. Why would you be the only human?// Simeon silently projected.

"My family is here, as are about fifty of us," Annalise said, despite her better judgement. She normally would not be so candid, but it felt like her mind was being nudged into truthfulness. It was an unfamiliar and unwelcome feeling. "There is also a science station here where Dr. and Mrs. Weinburg live."

"A science station? That's wonderful. They can contact starships?"

"I guess," said Annalise.

"I also must ask, do you have metal working facilities, or anyplace we can bring my ship to fix it?"

"Yeah, there's a hanger built into the mountain."

//What is going on? This doesn't feel right.// Simeon said, gauging their reactions. Panic was leaking into his voice, increasing with his parent’s rapid heartbeat. She wanted badly to run away, but it was as if her feet were glued to the ground.

"You have a lovely daemon," the alien woman said, her grin spreading even wider.

"Th-thanks," Annalise said, feeling exposed under her gaze. Her parents always told her to be patient when alien beings examined her daemon, but this was too much. She noticed for the first time the alien hand rested on an object at her waist – the hilt of a sword. The girl mentally prepared to run at a moment’s notice.

"Where is your family?" Asked the woman.

"At Sunday worship," Annalise answered obediently. "They will not be back for a couple of hours."

//Why did you tell her that?//

//I don't know, Simeon! I don't know what to do.//

"Well," the alien replied. "While we're waiting, would you like to see my ship?"

She did not wait for an answer as she came over and put her hand on Annalise's shoulder. The girl cringed. She tried to fight whatever was keeping her in place, but the more she tried to move, the more the invisible force held her in place. Tears brimmed in her eyes as she felt the tingling sensation of a transporter take her away as the stranger unsheathed her sword.

 

Chapter 1 – Distress

Leonard McCoy's graceful fingers slid over the head and down the neck of Leauna, his deer daemon, and in return she placed her nose on his leg. The particular ministration was her favorite, besides the light scratch behind the ear. With his other hand, the doctor fingered a sweating glass of gin and tonic, allowing the drops to whet his fingers.

At the adjacent table, his two best friends were locked in an intense game of three dimensional chess. He knew their concentration was paramount when their bodies became stiff and moved the pieces with care, as if they would burst into flame if held incorrectly. The only breaks in the stillness were the occasional whispers of "check." Even their daemons appeared tense, standing as still as stone by their parents' feet.

"I never saw what was wrong with the old kind of chess," Leauna whispered in her soft southern drawl. "You know, with the flat board and the sensible rules."

McCoy nodded in agreement, afraid any further movement of his physical body would cause the ceiling of Kirk's quarters to collapse under the weight of mental fortitude. He wondered why Kirk even bothered with these cerebral actives off duty. All McCoy wanted to do after a long day was concentrate on some mind-numbing pulp novel or mystery holo.

Just as McCoy felt he would snap from the silence and stillness, Jim Kirk evenly said, "checkmate." He moved his pawn to the appropriate position on the board, taking his opponent's bishop from the game. His daemon, Aesina, scampered to the table to grab the piece and put it in the captain's hand. The small brown monkey then hopped onto the shoulder of her parent, all tension gone from her lithe body.

"Is that not twice in a row?" Aesina said in a smooth voice that betrayed her size. Few had the chance to hear that voice but the two men in Kirk's presence.

"You are correct, captain," his Vulcan opponent said. Spock's face remained stolid with the exception of a raised eyebrow, but the ruffling of his daemon’s silver feathers signaled to Kirk his friend was getting irritated. The most visible evidence of the Vulcan's half-human physiology – in the form of a Vulcan bird of prey - was perceived by much of the crew to be just as hard to read as the man himself, but his two friends knew better.

"Does that mean we can move on to something else?" McCoy asked, finally getting enough physical movement back to take a sip of his drink. "Sitting here watching the two of you play chess is not exactly the riveting theater you think it is."

"What would you suggest? Monopoly?" Kirk asked.

"I have never understood a game based on predatory capitalism," Spock contributed.

"I used to play Risk with my dad, but we never planned on taking over the world," McCoy grumbled as he took another sip.

"In other words, Spock," Leauna added. "I realize the word 'relax' isn't in the Vulcan vocabulary, but at least try to find a close approximation."

"I wasn't being serious anyway," Kirk sighed while rubbing his eyes.

McCoy could see that as a sign to stop the light bickering, but he still felt escalated emotions within him begging for some form of release.

//Forget it, Len. //

He looked down at Leauna, whose silent, understanding eyes met him like they always had. He smiled and petted his companion.

"Are you still experiencing headaches, Captain?" Spock asked, piquing the doctor’s attention.

“What?” The unexpected medical information immediately caught McCoy’s attention.

"Thanks, Spock," Aesina said once Kirk straightened.

“It’s nothing, Bones. They’re not nearly as bad as when I first…woke up.

"I think I should give you another thing of painkillers, Jim," McCoy said as he finished off his drink. "You shouldn't still be hurting."

“I agree with the doctor,” Spock said in a direct tone. “Two years should have been enough time.”

“And I haven’t had headaches for a whole year of it. All of the stressful missions we’ve had are catching up to me, that’s all.”

"All we need to accomplish is the investigation of Cerebus II and you are free to take shore leave," Spock said.

"We'll need the shore leave after the next mission," Leauna sighed. "A collection of modern day pilgrims who would prefer wrestling with a Romulan ridgeback than meeting with us."

"The pilgrims did not send the summons, but rather the scientific team working with them. One of them was one of my teachers at the academy, Dr. Weinburg. I'm looking forward to seeing him again."

"What exactly is he doing there, anyway?" McCoy asked. “Don’t all the religious colonies think science is devilish or something?”

"He's an expert on how religion shapes societies, so the development of the colony is of interest to him." Kirk carefully took apart the chess board as he spoke. “I can’t say it’s my cup of tea, but I can see why it’s important. He had a talent for making me interested in subjects I hated.”

"I believe his father helped perfect Federation laws regarding religious intolerance," Spock commented. "It was a masterful piece of diplomacy."

"Well, there isn't anything religious about this trip. All they told us was that an alien spacecraft crashed on their planet and we haven't heard anything since," Kirk said.

Aesina hopped from the table to Kirk’s shoulder. "Enough talk about work. It's Bones' turn to pick a game."

"I know you’ll be shocked to hear this, but I'm not in a chess mood tonight," McCoy said as he scratched the stubble on his chin. "I'm definitely in the mood for gin rummy though."

"I don't know, Bones," Kirk said with his trademark grin. "I would have to get some high stakes in there to be persuaded."

McCoy gave a knowing smile to Leauna, who jumped on her feet with excitement. "Winner won't pay a thing while on shore leave at Starbase 22. Loser has to pay our way."

"I'm afraid I will have to abstain from this game, gentlemen," Spock said as he rose from the table.

"C'mon Spock," McCoy said as he pulled up a chair and a recorder for the points. "It's about time I taught you how to play an old fashioned card game."

"As you well know, Doctor, Vulcans do not gamble. We find it illogical to..."

"...put your fortunes in the hands of random chance, I know," McCoy said with some indignation. "Gin Rummy isn't random chance. It's a game you need strategy to win. Besides, I sat and watched you guys play chess for almost two hours. It's only fair you join us here."

"Fairness is a human concept, and it was quite illogical for you to stay if you were obtaining no stimulus from..."

A snort from Kirk interrupted the Vulcan’s lecture. “Spock, you’d better stop before throws the chess set at you.”

Despite himself, McCoy let out a laugh at the image of Spock being hit in the face with a chess board, pieces flying all over the room.

“That would indeed be unfortunate, Captain. We all know impulse control is not the doctor’s strong suit.”

Kirk laughed again while McCoy clenched his jaw. “If you don’t stop talking I’ll throw the whole damn table.”

“The table is bolted to the floor, so that would be quite impossible.”

McCoy groaned at Kirk covering his face to poorly hide his laughter.

Before the doctor could respond, Spock said, “It is time for my daily meditation, so I must retire. I will see you both in the morning.”

T’Ra flew to perch on Spock’s shoulder before the Vulcan took his leave. The second the door closed, McCoy let out a sigh.

"That damn fool Vulcan wouldn't know a friendly gesture if it bit him in the ass," McCoy sighed as he savored the familiar feeling of their daemons touching.

"You know that's not true, Bones," Kirk said as he shuffled the plastic cards with the grace of an old-time Vegas dealer. "Although…since his counterpart died, he hasn’t really been the same. I thought maybe today he was loosening up, but…”

McCoy rubbed his face with his hand. "Yeah. I thought he had turned a new leaf when we were stuck together on the Franklin mission.”

“You’re not going to change his upbringing, Bones. It works for him.”

“Obviously not, based on…” McCoy cut himself off, eyes drifting to Kirk’s shuffling technique.

Aesina’s tail swished, betraying a tension in the captain. “Spock…did he saying anything to you when he was alone on the planet?”

"Philosophizing about death. How ne needed to help his people. Nothing he hasn’t told you already.” McCoy picked up seven cards from the newly shuffled deck. A sigh from under the table signaled Aesina’s frustration. McCoy furrowed his brow. “He hasn’t talked to you?”

“Nope.”

The shortness of that answer was telling. Kirk was bothered by Spock not telling him about what he was pondering. McCoy was, too.

“Are you ready to lose?” Kirk said, his eyes hidden behind his fan of cards.

"Spock hasn’t been talking to you?" Leauna asked. She poked Aesina’s stomach with her nose, and the monkey just snorted.

“He has, but he hasn’t.” Aesina sighed. “We still have social time, but he is not so keen to share things anymore. He’s supposed to be my best friend. He went nuts when Khan’s bullshit put us into a coma. He knew we weren’t dead, but he did it anyway.”

“Oh, I know it was weird.” McCoy grunted as he laid down a card. "Maybe he’s distancing himself from you because he doesn’t want to be hurt if you actually do die next time.”

Kirk shrugged, laying down another card to make an expanding train. Leauna was about to say something else when Aesina started to swipe at Leauna’s ears, causing the deer’s head to shake. McCoy took this as a sign that Kirk was wanted to goad him out of this conversation, and it was working, especially since the captain was laying down his fifth pair.

The two friends continued in their game with friendly, superficial conversation for the next hour. Their laughter was apparent and their daemons occasionally played rough when one had a particularly frustrating hand. At one point, Aesina bit Leauna's ear when Kirk called rummy for the second time in the hand.

It was at about 0100 when a churning feeling came out of nowhere and made both Kirk and McCoy stop what they were doing. Both knew the source and looked at their daemons, who were suddenly agitated.

McCoy knew when Leauna felt dread, there was a strange presence nearby. There were many forces in the universe which affected daemons strangely. This was to be expected with the exposed nature of the human soul.

However, this felt different from the harmless disturbances. His daemon put her chin in his lap while Aesina scampered to cuddle in Kirk's arms.

"What's the matter, 'Auna?" McCoy asked while scratching behind her ear.

"I don't know, but I know I don't want to feel it again."

"Me too," Aesina said as she moved to her favorite spot on Kirk's shoulder. "It was almost like a surge of energy, but one that burns. I only felt it for a second, but...I don't know."

"We've felt these kind of things before," Kirk said, although McCoy could tell the captain felt the same dread he did.

"Yes we have," Leauna said. "But for some reason this one is strange to me, it's..."

The chirp of the intercom interrupted them, which caused the captain to take a deep breath before answering.

"Sir," the gamma shift communications officer said. "We are currently in orbit around Cerebus II. The colonists have acknowledged our signal and will be ready for us to beam down in the morning."

Kirk looked at his daemon, and then his friend. The man on the other end sounded a little more shaky than usual. "Mr. Perry, did you just now notice something...odd. Something which affected your daemon?"

There was a beat of silence on the other end before he heard an "affirmative," from the officer.

"I know I'm new to this ship," the young man continued. "They told me I should get used to Tarn reacting to certain forces, but...everyone's was affected. I can't help but think its coming from the planet."

McCoy could tell when the captain was getting the determined look in his eye - the one which led him into dangerous situations without thought for the consequences. This small diversion was looking to be more than they initially thought, but rather than chasing the captain away, it drew him like a moth to the flame.

"Headed into danger again, I guess," Leauna sighed.

"Yippee ki-yay," McCoy said in a deep drawl.

~~~~~~~~

"What did you hear?" Spock asked T'Ra as he gently stroked her back. The daemon was shivering while perched on his knee and was blocking him from hearing what had clearly disturbed her. The fear was so great, it shocked them out of a deep meditation.

"Screaming," T'Ra said in a small voice. "Loud. Piercing. Screaming. There was anguish, Spock. The deepest anguish I have ever felt." The creature's voice broke as she recalled the feeling.

Spock continued his ministrations as he considered what she said. T’Ra’s empathic abilities normally did not affect him, but today the collateral emotions reverberated in his head. He was thankful this incident did not happen in front of others. For his sake, his daemon usually kept to herself and did not expose any emotionalism. Spock knew if the time called for it, she would express her true nature.

"Do you still hear it, Katra?"

"No. It lasted only for a moment, but I can hear the echoes."

"Then it is over now," Spock said softly, now massaging the taresh-ka's neck. "It would be illogical to not remember this incident. We have seen much anguish in our travels, but none has affected you so. I hope for both our sakes it never happens again."

"Are you talking about hope? I thought it was...illogical," T'Ra said, attempting to straighten herself, but still enjoying her parent's ministrations.

"You realize what I mean."

"I will not protest, Spock, but I do not think we can stop it…whatever _it_ is."

“I would not be so sure about that,” Spock said, his thoughts drifting to his brave captain. “It would be illogical to assume this crew cannot meet any challenge.”

“I can think of at least 237 challenges that would be impossible to overcome.”

“As can I, but I have learned not to underestimate our crew.”

“And the captain.”

T’Ra’s discomfort gone, her posture eased from its straight position. “He is beginning to notice.”

“I know.”

“There is no shame in sharing our thoughts with the captain. Many hours have been spent pondering why our counterpart did not have a daemon. It is only natural that our minds would have this thought reignite upon his death. There is a possibility he spoke with Jim about the subject.”

“That is doubtful considering the circumstances.”

Spock’s fingers drifted over the daemon’s crest. “I had never asked him why. This will now be impossible, and the questions will never be resolved.”

“These fears are human, which is why Jim would understand. He must have been wondering the same thing.”

Kirk had never brought up his counterpart’s daemon, even in their most intimate conversations. This was not surprising since daemons were a difficult subject to broach with humans. There was no data with which to draw a hypothesis, but the best he had was that T’Ra might fade over time due to shorter human lifespans. This was a tenuous conclusion, but the most logical one.

Yet his counterpart never mentioned his own T’Ra, or if T’Ra even existed at all in his universe. Spock’s daemon was never drawn to him. As far as his older self was concerned, the silver t’reshka was invisible. Spock would have spoken about this anomaly, but fear held him back.

“We are wasting far too much energy on these thoughts,” the daemon said. “We must return to meditation.”

“I cannot complete my meditation tonight.” Spock said. The ache at the idea of not having his soul by his side was too great.

The ache resembled that of not having his captain.

“Spock,” T’Ra said, chiding. “Vulcans live longer than humans. This is why our counterpart…”

“I know,” Spock said shortly, his controls firmly in place again. “Come, we must rise early to go to the planet. We must be in peak physical condition.”

T’Ra agreed, only because her being yearned for rest after the recent scare.

That night in bed, Spock’s katra engaged in a rare treat and slept on the pillow with her parent.


	2. Investigation

Kirk, Spock, McCoy materialized within a foot of a sharp drop-off.

McCoy jumped and backed up. “Still think rushing down here without confirming the coordinates was a good idea?”

“C’mon Bones. We’re a whole meter away from the cliff. Scotty knows what he’s doing. Look. The science station is right here.” Kirk pointed to the minimalist gray house with a rusted satellite dish jutting from the roof.

Kirk saw McCoy grip his tricorder tight. A night’s sleep clearly did not ease his nerves.

The captain did not blame him.

Aesina grasped his shirt tighter than was typical for her. Typically she had a preternatural balance on his shoulder, but she seemed unsteady on her limbs. The grip was less from fear, and more anticipation. Their daemons had only rarely been in danger. They were instantly recognized by almost all sentient races – including Klingons and Romulans – as sacred.

To ease her tense posture, Aesina grabbed Kirk’s hair in order to stand upright.

“’Sina.” Kirk groaned, although thankful for the pain to get his mind back on track.

“There’s no one in that science station.” Kirk’s daemon said, her eyes focused on one of the windows.

“That is entirely possible since we had not scanned to identify humanoid life signs. I will attempt to do so with my tricorder.”

Kirk spared a glace toward his first officer, trying to ascertain any idea of what he might be thinking through T’Ra’s posture. Aesina gave his hair a subtle tug, trying to get his mind off the subject, but he could not help himself. Spock had mentioned the disturbance, but more in a way like he had been told about it. There was no indication T’Ra felt it.

Kirk again batted away his distractions and led the way as he went toward the lab. Once at the door, the captain politely knocked.

Nothing.

“Captain,” Spock said. “My tricorder indicated no humanoid life signs within a 50 mile radius.”

“Huh,” Kirk said out of annoyance. “Dr. Weinburg knew we were coming. Is the planet having a holiday or something?”

“Not to my knowledge, Captain, but this could also be explained by the strange craft. Some colonies have protocols calling for evacuation if an unknown being comes within their midst.”

“Well, let’s not assume that’s the case here.” McCoy said as he hugged himself and rubbed his arms. The nippy breeze at this high elevation was cutting through the entire party by now. The men held their daemons closer for warmth as they continued scouting the area.

Almost as soon as Kirk was about to call off their visit, the communicator chirped.

"Kirk here," the captain answered.

"Captain," Uhura said on the other end. "We just got a message from Dr. Weinburg. He said he forgot to tell you he would be in the village's hanger, where they are keeping the space craft."

Kirk looked around to the rest of the party, and then out into the valley. The oddity of the doctor's informality was becoming a strong annoyance. "Where is this hanger, Lieutenant?"

"Better yet, what would religious settlers need with a shuttle hanger?" McCoy added. "I thought the point was to forsake technology."

"There had been a previous attempt at colonization a half a century ago by the Klingons," Spock provided. "But a plague unique to this planet proved too much for their physiology, so they abandoned their efforts. They had built a large military base inside the mountain before they had left, although I am sure there are no instruments in working order after all of these years."

"He said the hanger was within the mountain you're standing on," Uhura continued. "There should be an access point behind the lab."

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of shifting metal behind them. They looked toward where the cliff connected to the mountain and saw the brown rock was merely camouflage. A large metal door rose to reveal a long tunnel lined with strips of lighting. The tunnel appeared to be only a hundred meters long. Sounds of machinery and soft voices echoed throughout.

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Kirk out."

The captain closed his communicator harder than he normally would, the hairs on his neck standing on end. “I say it’s time for a more…discreet talk gentlemen.”

As if on cue, T'Ra flew down to the ground and Aesina scampered to meet her. The three daemons converged and lowered their heads, sure they could not be overheard.

"We should not jump to conclusions, Captain," T'Ra said. "But I must admit the incident last night should cause us to suspect all is not as it seems."

"Thank you, Sherlock," Leauna grunted as she joined the pair. "Got anything more solid to tell us?"

Spock raised an eyebrow and checked his tricorder. "There is indeed a large space inside the mountain," his daemon relayed. "Once the door opened, we were able to assess life signs. Our readings indicate twenty-two humanoid life forms and fifteen daemons. There is evidence of at least one strong telepath."

"T'Ra," Aesina said, her voice shaky. “Did you feel the disturbance last night?”

T’Ra’s feathers gave a barely detectable ruffle before she said, "Yes, and upon further reflection, many telepathic beings have given off similar readings upon death, particularly one of great pain. One of those injured in the crash could have given off a psychic cry in their last throws."

“I _knew_ you felt somethi…” Aesina jumped on to Leauna’s back and bit her on the ear. Leauna shook her head indignant, but cut off her thought.

“The colony gave us no word of any deaths,” Aesina said. “You would think that would be an important detail if someone was in danger or dying.”

"Gentlemen," Kirk said as he pulled out his phasar. "The only way to know the answer is to go in. Keep your phasars on stun and go slowly."

"And keep your daemons close," Aesina added, jumping onto Kirk's shoulders.

"No need to tell me twice," McCoy sighed as they held their weapons in front of them.

Kirk led the way as the group entered the tunnel. Once they all were inside, the door fell closed with a loud crash.

Kirk immediately turned toward their blocked exit and aimed his weapon.

"Captain, wait!" came a voice with a Yiddish accent from behind them. The men looked to see an older man in a Starfleet science uniform trotting toward them, his canary daemon on his shoulder.

"This is not exactly the welcome we expected, Dr. Weinburg," Kirk asked, immediately recognizing the aging scientist. The man did appear thinner, and his hair was now completely white, but he looked much the same as he had when he had him as an instructor at the Academy.

"I apologize for our disorganization, Captain," Dr. Weinburg said as he came up to Kirk. "It has been quite a week with our visitors here. Also, we needed to close the door quickly so none of the Kraals get in. Those are the resident carnivores of this planet."

Kirk sighed. "I understand things happen, Doctor, but from what you said this was an urgent call."

"You will see when you talk to the survivors of the crash," the doctor said with a small smile. It was the only real expression he had given during the exchange. Upon closer examination, his eyelids were heavy with bags under his eyes. Kirk knew Weinburg had a reputation for heavy drinking, which only added to his irritation.

"You have not introduced me to your colleagues," Weinburg said as he looked to McCoy and Spock. His eyes gravitated to the Vulcan's shoulder, where T'Ra was standing stiff. McCoy looked to Spock as the Vulcan got a slight pang in his face strangers would not have noticed. Once again, the Vulcan control and pride was useless to hide his human side.

"Why does this Vulcan have a daemon?" He continued, looking closely at T'Ra.

"That Vulcan has a name," McCoy growled. Kirk was tempted to say worse. This disrespect for T’Ra happened far too much.

"Dr. Weinburg," Kirk said, trying to disguise his own anger. "This is Mr. Spock, my First Officer, and Dr. McCoy, my Chief..."

"You did not answer the question," Weinburg said, he eyes still fixated on the daemon. The canary on his shoulder did not appear to share his enthusiasm since it stood completely still, save for occasional twitch.

"My mother was a human, Doctor," Spock replied in a more controlled monotone than usual.

"Fascinating," Weinburg said as he reached a hand toward the t’resh-ka. His advance was quickly stopped by the captain’s strong hand grabbing his wrist. Kirk turned the older man toward him and met his eyes.

"Mr. Spock might not be fully human, Doctor, but basic decorum must still followed."

Kirk’s rage was barely contained, only held back by Aesina digging her fingers into his neck. The warning was sufficient based on the look in Weinburg's face. McCoy looked poised to intervene as well, but he knew better. Spock had always disliked when they stood up for him like this.

The older man recovered quickly, and shifted his gaze to Aesina. She cringed. The look for her was more awed than curious. Even so, it was too much scrutiny from a complete stranger. Kirk's face tightened.

//I should have broken this asshole’s wrist.// Kirk thought.

"I believe we have come at an inopportune time," Spock said as if the faux paux never happened.

A switch seemed to go off in Weinburg's head and he regained composure. "No, you did not," he said with his hands in the air, as if to surrender. "Please, forgive me. It has been difficult. My wife...she passed away recently."

Kirk softened slightly, but not enough to be noticeable.

"I am sorry to hear that," Kirk said. "I agree with Mr. Spock's sentiment. This is clearly a bad time..."

"Please...don't leave," Weinburg pleaded.

"Dr. Weinburg," Kirk said, using his best firm-yet-diplomatic voice. "We have several dozen colonies in this sector who are requesting a visit from a starship."

"But not all of them have potential Federation citizens in distress. These people who crashed are Xarth, sir."

Kirk heard McCoy sigh behind him, which he was tempted to do himself. The Xarth were a humanoid people whose sentient-being rights abuses had put their application for Federation membership on hold. Although not much was known about the nature of the issues, there were people on the planet who were cast off from society and forced to live in isolation or do menial work. The only reason the Federation was still leaving the door open was because of a worsening energy crisis and the failing technology which had resulted in widespread suffering.

"I believe you were going to show us to the hanger," the Vulcan said, breaking the silence. Without saying anything further, the trembling scientist nodded and waved the other group to follow him.

McCoy and Kirk offered small smiles to the Vulcan, and were not surprised when they were ignored. All of them knew Starfleet did not discourage less-than-professional reactions on the rare occasion a daemon's boundaries were breached, but none of them expected to have to have such a reaction with a human.

"Who did that two-bit drunk think he was?" Leauna whispered

"Quiet," Aesina said just as softly. "This is not the same man we remember. I think we've gone from suspicion to certainty at this point."

"I'm way ahead of you. I've been certain since we essentially became prisoners here. If there is really such thing as a Kraal, then I'm an Orion slave girl."

"I noticed a strange aura when he came close," T'Ra said, waddling between the other two. "He seemed to be inhibited in some way, and this inhibition is allowing him to be influenced by an outside party – most likely a telepath of some kind."

Aesina flinched, and Kirk nearly followed suit. "You mean a telepath might be controlling him?"

"If so, they're not doing a good job," Leauna said.

"Nonetheless, such an action would be in gross violation of a number of galactic laws," T'Ra continued. "Especially since Dr. Weinburg is mentally incapacitated."

"Intoxicated?" Aesina asked.

"No, more severe. I require more data to ascertain the cause.”

Kirk looked to his two friends and then back to the approaching end of the tunnel. He could sense his determined air fading, and worry took its place. Three people were too few to handle this issue.

"There were over fifty people in this colony to think about," the Aesina whispered. "We will have to find a way to investigate further. We need to keep our thoughts to ourselves as long as possible. We don't know if mind reading is at play or not."

"Gentlemen?" Weinburg said from the end of the tunnel. The men nodded to each other and followed, keeping their hands close to their phasars.

~~~~~~~~~~

At the end of the tunnel, there was a balcony ten feet off the ground overlooking an expansive floor - at least ten acres in scale - with a high, transparent ceiling. About a dozen humans and their daemons were scattered about with various pieces of mechanical equipment working on the large ship hoisted on a metal scaffold. The ship itself was twice as large as one of the Enterprise's shuttles. It was all silver and shaped like a teardrop with a bottom flatter than the top. It was a simple craft with no visible windows or propulsion mechanisms. McCoy looked to his friends to gauge their reactions, and they did not recognize the origin of the craft. They also did not see any signs of damage despite its apparent incapacity.

"Yes, it is a beauty," Weinburg said without enthusiasm. "She crashed right into the side of this mountain. She had no power, you see, but thankfully the ship is strong enough to withstand re-entry, even in less than planned circumstances. We had the means to give them most of the power they needed, but there is still more to be had if they want to make it back to their planet. That is why you are here."

"It's not that simple, Doctor," Kirk said. "If we're going to provide help for these people, we need to be sure they will not use it for ill purposes."

"I can assure you this is not the case, Captain."

"Nevertheless, I would like to meet these visitors."

The older man did not appear phased. He nodded and said "very well" before leading the group down the metal stairs toward the main floor.

As they were walking, Kirk looked to Spock for information. The Vulcan studied his tricorder for readings on the sight, but he appeared to be having trouble with the device.

"What is it, Spock?" Kirk asked his First Officer.

"The readings are scrambled, Captain. It will be impossible to get an accurate reading on the craft."

"I apologize for that, Mr. Spock," Weinburg said, although his tone showed no contrition. "The ship gives out some...odd signals."

"And this does not cause any sort of suspicion?" Kirk asked.

"Of course not. They say they are not here to harm us. They have been scouting for alternative energy sources in neighboring star systems when they ended up here. So far, they have given us no reason to believe otherwise."

When they reached the floor, the three men visually scanned the room.

"I guess we know where the colonists are," Leauna whispered.

All of the workers in the hanger had clothing resembling American Puritans. A few of them were pushing carts of equipment and others were wiping a clear gel on the exterior of the ship. The rest were simply wandering around the complex, appearing to have no purpose whatsoever.

Leauna nipped at Aesina’s tail. The daemon looked up to see both her and McCoy going pale.

While his daemon observed McCoy, Kirk looked at how strange the people looked. Their daemons all looked ragged and tired, almost as if tagging along to their human was a burden. The humans did not look much better. Their eyes were glazed over, which increased the suspicions about a telepathic force.

"Lady D’Lana," Weinburg said, pulling Kirk from his thoughts. A slight woman in silky, flowing robes emerged from within the ship and descended a makeshift set of wooden stairs. She had no daemon, and her skin had a yellow tint. Her white hair flowed down to her waist, and her gait made her appear like she was gliding across the floor.

"Ah, are these the good people of the Enterprise?" D’Lana asked in a slightly accented Standard. "Thank you for coming here to give us what we need. It is very kind of you."

"Don't thank us yet, ma'am," Kirk said. "Dr. Weinburg still has not told us what kind of energy you need to run your ship. There is no guarantee we can provide it."

"I understand, Captain," D’Lana said, coming closer to Kirk. She seemed to be using her feminine wiles to get to him. The captain could practically hear McCoy rolling his eyes. "I know you will give us what we need. I'm sure you are curious about our ship. You are the first Starfleet personnel to see it besides Dr. Weinburg."

"Simply receiving information from your computers will be sufficient," Spock said.

D’Lana smiled, appearing amused at the request. "Very well, I will fetch that straight away. Annalise!"

One of the wandering people turned and came to her aid. It was a little girl - no more than eleven years old - with pink flowers weaved into her blonde hair.

D’Lana was speaking, but Kirk directed his attention on this young pilgrim child. Now that he saw one of these people up close, chills ran up and down his spine. The girl looked like she should have been running outside and playing while her immature daemon changed forms constantly. She should not have been wandering this place like a ghost, holding a quiet chipmunk daemon in her arms. Her eyes were downcast, and looked....empty. Uncaring. Dead.

Kirk was startled by a firm hand to his shoulder.

"Jim! Spock!" McCoy said in a loud whisper. Before the captain could hear anything else, he felt a prick in his arm. Immediately, cold pain sped through his bloodstream, and his body went stiff. From his position, he saw both of his friends in the same predicament. A man carrying a large pistol pulled the darts out of their collapsing forms, and removed their communicators and phasers.

"Nice deductions, Dr. McCoy," D’Lana said with a dark smile. "You have saved me quite a bit of time. I am quite sure this nerve agent is harmless, but then again it is Klingon and several decades old."

Although his body was frozen, Aesina was not. She and Leauna charged at D’Lana, but more of the severed people ran to the scene and grabbed them. T'Ra clearly saw the futility of the situation and stayed by Spock, but even she was taken as the helpless Vulcan watched.

If Kirk could have physically reacted, he would scream over the violation. It was as if grimy, spiked fingers were inside his flesh, exploring and violating sacred territory. They had trained them in Starfleet academy to prepare for such an invasion in hostile situations, but this was the first time it had actually happened and all the mental tricks in the world could not make the mental agony subside.

"Take them in the back," D’Lana said, eyeing the three daemons hungrily.


	3. Severed

The three were brought into a murky, dark dungeon and thrown onto a floor made of soil and straw. Kirk barely remembered the trip. His mind could not detach from the dirty hands touching his soul. He felt slimy. Disgusting. Nothing inside him would ever be clean again.

Then, all of a sudden, the evil touches disappeared. Kirk came back to himself felt the floor on either side of him. Aesina was not there.

//I’m outside your cell.// The daemon called through their shared mind. //We’re in a cage about a meter away.//

Kirk caught the trembling in his daemon’s voice. He was used to comforting her with soothing touches, but he would have to settle for sending waves of calm. The violation still reverberated in their bond, but they had to focus.

“Jim, are you okay?”

McCoy’s gruff voice trembled, giving away his own frayed emotions.

“Yeah,” Kirk said, pushing himself into a sitting position. He could barely see in this place. Aesina said he was in a cell, and he believed it. As he lifted his head, he notices the only light source was two torches on the other side of the bars. As the fog in his brain lifted, Kirk became more cognizant of the aches associated with being manhandled and dragged through what looked like a natural cave fashioned into a dungeon.

“Is Spock okay?”

“I am adequate, Captain.”

“You don’t sound like it.”

Spock’s voice had come out small and soft, but somehow maintained the assuredness he had been used to.

“Goddammit!” McCoy shouted suddenly. “Why didn’t I notice sooner? I was so stupid!”

Kirk crawled over to see his friend pounding the ground with his fist. “Bones! Stop!”

“Those people were _severed,_ Jim!”

Kirk froze in place. He was unsure what McCoy meant, but the grim inflection of his voice made the word heavy in his mind.

"Severed?" Kirk said in a shaky whisper to McCoy. "What does that mean?"

“They….they…” McCoy’s voice quivered as he gripped stray pieces of straw on the ground. “I saw so many like them back in Georgia. Some religious sects…they think it separates them from their original sin. I had no idea…oh God!”

McCoy vomited on the floor and flopped to his side. Kirk was alarmed at the reaction. He had never seen Bones so upset.

“Jocelyn wanted to do it to my daughter. I stopped her…but…then she did it to herself.”

“Bones!” Kirk tried to avoid the puddle of sick when he crawled over and grabbed his friend’s face. “Bones! What is it? What happened to those people?”

“They were _severed_.”

“I know that, what does it…”

“It means they cut their daemons away!” McCoy shouted before all the fight went out of him. Kirk let go of him as the doctor’s head went slowly to the floor. McCoy reached forward automatically, obviously to seek physical comfort from an absent Leauna. Once McCoy realized his mistake, he made a fist and hit the floor again.

“Bones,” Kirk said, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. “That isn’t possible.”

"It is entirely possible, Captain," Spock said, his voice a shadow of itself. "As I recall, there were many races on your Earth who had developed ways to separate a human from their external katra. It is logical other races would develop more sophisticated methods."

"And I know what I saw," McCoy said, his voice more level as he pushed himself up. "That image...the look in the eye...you don't easily forget it."

“But…when Joanna was on the ship, you said it was because Jocelyn had been declared unfit.”

McCoy did not answer and looked away. Kirk’s curiosity burned bright, but he knew when to let go.

Kirk pushed himself to his feet when he saw that Spock was standing. After finding balance on the uneven floor, he moved to the dark corner of the cell where his first officer was standing. Once Kirk found a wall, he immediately leaned against it. His chest was heavy and he felt lightheaded, only made worse by the smell of must and vomit.

"I still don’t understand why anyone would do something like that.”

"Energy," Spock said. "That is, assuming the information Dr. Weinburg gave us is correct. The human-daemon bond has been found by many to release vast amounts of energy when broken. One human bond has enough to run the Enterprise at full capacity on Warp 2 for three days, and could power a small Starbase for 1.2 months. Humans see the use of this energy as a high moral crime, but it is only logical that alien species with no such qualms would make use of the power. It is also logical that they would call on a starship for more specimens."

"It's amazing how you can talk about barbarism so coolly," McCoy said with a sneer.

"It is not barbarism to them, Doctor," Spock continued. "Non-human races are less inclined to understand the importance of..."

"I don't give a damn about cultural competence bullshit!" McCoy shouted, rising to his feet. "Cutting daemons away kills half the people who go through the procedure. Any intelligent race worth a damn must have known this was deadly. They can't claim ignorance. They don't care. There were kids in that colony, Spock! Doesn't that make you feel anything?"

McCoy grabbed the Vulcan's shoulders and growled, "Don't try to tell me you wouldn't feel anything if they took T'Ra from you."

Spock was not looking the doctor in the eye, but was focusing his gaze in the middle of his shirt. This only made McCoy more enraged.

"Or maybe you wouldn't care at all. Maybe you would be happy about losing that dreaded human soul of yours."

"Bones! Stop!" Kirk shouted, pulling the doctor back by the shoulder. "You know that's not true. We can’t snipe at each other. Not now. We have to find a way to help those people."

"Those people are beyond help, Jim," McCoy said with a catch in his voice. "They might as well be the walking dead."

Spock, having quickly recovered, said, "It appears the same thing will happen to us if we do not attempt to escape, although the chances of such a thing happening are less than five point two-seven percent without aid from the Enterprise. They will likely notice our absence of contact in approximately thirty point two minutes, which is enough time for Lady D’Lana to destroy us."

"What if they find a way to get to our ship?" Kirk asked the Vulcan. "Do you think anyone else is in danger?"

"I do not believe so. The average amount of energy needed to carry a craft to interstellar travel should have been mostly attained by now. They only needed a few more specimens. However, I would need to gather more data to be sure of this."

"So a good assumption is that everyone on the Enterprise is in just as much danger as us," Kirk said as he started to pace the room. "We have to get to our communicators and weapons."

"Geeze, a tape worm could have told you that," McCoy grunted. A harsh look from Kirk caused him to soften. "I'm sorry, Jim. I'm just...I know I should be used to this but...it hurts."

Kirk nodded and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. The pain only got worse as the minutes ticked by. Separating from his lifelong companion never got easier. He could not imagine if he had been there without his friends. Such deep loneliness would be difficult to bear.

McCoy covered Kirk's hand with his own and gave him a half smile. He then looked toward Spock, who was still standing with his head staring at a fixed point in the opposite wall. From what Kirk could see in the darkness, his body was a picture of tension, with his back shaking under the forced posture.

The doctor walked to the Vulcan and stood beside him so their shoulders were just barely touching. Kirk did the same on his opposite side.

"I'm sorry, Spock," McCoy said, hanging his head. "That was a stupid thing for me to say to you."

"I am unaffected by your emotional outbursts, Doctor," Spock said evenly. "However, if the energy you put into your antics could be channeled into a workable escape plan, then we would have returned to the Enterprise by now."

Kirk heard his friend snort, indicating that he wanted to react, but had no fight left in him. The captain decided that no words were necessary. He gently placed a hand on his friend’s back. Spock’s body warmth was such a treat when he got to indulge in a touch. It was especially welcome at a time like this. Based on the slight relaxation of muscles, Spock appreciated the gesture.

"We're going to get out of here," Kirk said. "This is no different than every other scrape we've gotten ourselves into. It just feels worse because our daemons are involved."

McCoy sighed. "Jim, you need to get rid of the idea you're invincible. There were only six aliens on that ship, and they managed to overtake a colony of fifty. "

"Not to mention their leader's considerable telepathic abilities," Spock added.

“No,” the captain insisted. “I don’t believe in no-win scenarios. You will get out of here, I promise.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Outside the cave cell sat a smaller cage made of a material which looked like chicken wire. Inside were the three daemons, separated from their humans, and attempting to take advantage of their weaker accommodations.

"I know you are an emotional being, Leauna," T'Ra said. "But I still do not see why you always get hostile in times like this."

"He said we were sorry," Leauna sighed as she paced the perimeter of the cage. "At least we express our feelings instead of letting them eat us from the inside out."

"Emotions have no corrosive properties, Leauna."

The deer daemon sighed. "Why do I even bother anymore? I know you get sick of spewing that crap, T'Ra."

T'Ra paused. "I will admit, I am more apt to show emotions than my parent body, but you know perfectly well my belief in logic is genuine. I also believe logic is the best way to extricate ourselves from this situation."

"Quiet," Aesina said while hanging from the top of the cage. "In this case I have to agree with T'Ra. We're the only ones who will be able to initiate an escape." Her small fingers were attempting to pry at the wires, but there was no give. "There has to be some way to compromise this thing."

"We know it opens from the top," T'Ra said as she climbed the walls with her talons. "Try to make as little noise as you can. The guard outside will be back any minute."

"I sure hope their confidence in their cages is misplaced," Leauna said.

"We'll find a way, 'Auna," Aesina said. "We always do."

T'Ra's wings twitched as she heard the sound of approaching footsteps. She nipped at Aesina's tail. "I hear someone coming and it does not feel like a normal guard."

The monkey hopped down and face her friend. "Does it feel human?"

"I sense a few humans, but a strong alien presence as well. I have not been around them long enough to tell this new race's specific signature, but..."

The words died on her beak as the metal door opened and revealed D’Lana, wearing a smug smile on her face as she made her way to the small cage. The three daemons attempted to play dumb and not respond to her, although they suspected she knew more than she let on.

"Hello, friends," she said as she touched two fingers to the cage.

Two large male settlers followed the woman and flanked her on either side, not appearing to acknowledge the cage's existence.

"Such strange creatures you are," she said as her eyes scanned the three daemons. "I believe humans call you a deer, am I correct?"

"Yes,” Leauna said in a snarl, causing Aesina to give her a warning look. “But I must remind you that keeping us here will not help Xarth's chances of joining the Federation."

D’Lana shook her head. "Huh. I am tired of humans and their gargantuan egos. You assume everything has to do with your precious Federation and everybody in the known galaxy wants to be a part of it. If any of the multiple races out there would think outside the box, they would realize you humans have the most vast energy reserve in the universe, but your precious 'morals' keep needy races from touching it."

Aesina launched herself against the cage along with Leauna, the images of the severed settlers forefront in their minds..

"You appear to be in the form of a close ancestor of horses," D’Lana said as if her prisoners were not glaring daggers at her. "Quite an ugly creature. Not my preference."

The yellow eyes turned to T'Ra, who stood still behind her two friends. "You are a Vulcan bird of prey. I am surprised you have such copious feathers, but I assume the reflective silver is adaptive for the desert environment. I know the Vulcan said he was half human, but it still amazes me such a logical, unemotional creature can have such a graceful being by his side."

Her attention shifted to Aesina. The gaze became softer and more intimate. Aesina shifted under the weight of the alien's glare, feeling something akin to being grabbed again.

"Such a beautiful creature. A close ancestor of human, I believe. Dr. Weinburg called you a monkey, but this name does so little to describe your beauty. So graceful. I can tell you are a loyal friend to the captain." D’Lana leaned in closer ad lowered her voice to a whisper. "But we both know he does not deserve you."

Once again, Aesina feebly launched toward the walls of the cage, but only ricocheted backward.

D’Lana smiled again, with an expression almost resembling...pity. Aesina’s fur stood up on end. Not only was this woman cruel, barbaric, dismissive of the rights of sentient beings, but she seemed to think she knew better about the human-daemon relationship than humans did.

Before this woman walked away, there was a glimmer of something else. Loneliness? She was not sure. There was something which would have merited compassion were it not for the plans she clearly had for them.

//Don't waste our energy// she heard Kirk say as her observations reached him.

"We know what you did to those people," Leauna said in a low, dangerous voice. "You won't get away with destroying the lives of a peaceful colony."

D’Lana stopped her advance toward the nearby cell where their humans lay, and turned to look at Leauna.

"I did not destroy anything. I am setting things right," she practically spat before turning back toward her course.

Leauna immediately ran to Aesina’s side. "What was that all about?"

"D’Lana is lonely, and wants a daemon for herself," T'Ra said with a shaky voice. "Specifically, she wants Aesina."

"How do you know that?"

"I felt a great longing in her, and a desire for what humans had in their daemons. She appears to have a limited focus..." T'Ra trailed off in her speech, then shook her head.

"We will stop her, it must not happen."

Leauna's ears perked up as she observed the shaking in the t’resh-ka.

"I know now we all felt the sensation of a human's daemon being cut away, but I felt it far greater. There was...agony..."

"Stop," Aesina said softly. She reached out her paw and touched the other daemon's stomach.

“Please…just…” Aesina’s words caught in her throat. She had no idea what to do.

~~~~~~~~~~

The trio had stood silently while they took in the observations of their daemons.

D’Lana wanted Aesina, and the energy within his bond was an afterthought. For the third time as captain, he felt the black cloud of death hanging over his head, ready to consume him.

Still, there was a bright spot which, somehow, brought him peace. The reaction of T'Ra, and the small touch from Aesina, allowed warmth to pass between him and Spock for a brief moment. Their daemons had not touched in months, and it was only then did Kirk realize how heavy the distance between them was.

It was a shame he would not see it grow stronger again.

"I don't plan on living long enough to let D’Lana have her. She can have her damn energy, but she's not getting my soul."

"No!"

Both Kirk and McCoy were stunned at Spock's sudden outburst. He turned and faced the captain head on. Almost immediately, a green flush came to the Vulcans cheeks.

"I will not let you resign yourself to such a fate, Jim."

"Nor will I," McCoy said. "I thought you didn’t believe in no-win scenarios."

“I don’t, and D’Lana will not win.”

"Unfortunately, you have no choice in the matter."

The three men rose to their feet as the lithe form of their enemy darkened the open door. McCoy immediately ran for her, but was thrown backward by a flick of her wrist. The doctor hit the wall and fell to the floor, still as stone. Spock uncharacteristically tried to same tactic, but he was finished in a similar manner. She looked with hopeful eyes at Kirk, who now stood alone. The darkness in his sky blue eyes was palpable. Before he could make his own vain attempt, two large settlers grabbed him by the arms.

"Let me go!" Kirk shouted as he writhed in their iron grip. "You people don't want to do this. Fight her, dammit!"

"I would suggest not struggling, Captain. It will only make things worse for your friends."

To demonstrate, she strode to McCoy and lifted him up by his neck as if he were feather-light. She held him against the wall and drew a knife.

"Stop!" Kirk shouted. He had been struggling for only a few minutes, but was already getting tired. He knew this was not a winning fight. "I'll go with you willingly if you let them go back to the ship," McCoy said.

D’Lana smiled as she let the doctor drop to the floor. "You all will be free to go once we are gone, but not before. I would also encourage them not to go after us. You have seen my power. I would hate to have to show you its full connotations."

"I don't plan on living without Aesina."

The alien's yellow head tilted. She walked up to Kirk and examined him. She slid a single finger down his cheek. He pulled away quickly, disgusted by her touch.

"You know, I thought you and your daemon were dissimilar, but now I know better. What a loving spirit you have."

Kirk wanted so badly to break free from his captors and shows what his 'loving spirit' could do, but he once again found himself paralyzed.

"She won't make you human," Kirk said.

"Fortunately that is not my goal," she said as she turned to leave the cell, with the captive Kirk following. As they walked down the hall, he could feel the intrusion of someone touching Aesina, which was visually confirmed when he saw another former settler taking the monkey daemon out of the cage. The other two daemons were lying still, like their humans. Kirk let out a sigh of relief the daemons were still there. His friends were still alive.

Kirk looked to his own daemon and tried to absorb as much as he could out of the look they exchanged. According to the teachings of some religions, he and Aesina would remain united even after death in a new home beyond the physical world. Kirk knew this was crap. This life was all anyone had, and Earth was only able to pull itself together when it realized that. His life was about to end. His body would remain, but there would be no trace of Aesina.

His daemon psychically pushed him away from these thoughts, but not from thoughts of his loved ones. His mother. His brother. His ship. His family.

//Dammit Bones. You were closer than any family I ever had. Bravest man I have ever known. He will be Starfleet's greatest asset if he will learn to stop being so damn stubborn.//

//And Spock,// Kirk mentally paused as he thought of the friend he had tried so hard to bring back into a close friendship in the last few months. He had seen glimmers of what Spock felt for him during his near-death experience, but what had transpired minutes ago brought their relationship to a new level. Even Spock knew this was one of the worst ways to die.

//At least I got to see Spock show himself to me…one more time. I hope that despite all of this he finds happiness. He deserves it more than any man I know.//

Kirk looked again toward Aesina, sitting still in the stranger's arms. The image made him want to vomit, but he held it back. If he was going to die for this pathetic cause, he might as well do it with dignity.

As the stale, cold air of the hanger hit his face, and the long silver craft hovered over him, Kirk took a deep breath and prayed for the first time in his life.


	4. Alone

Spock awoke slowly, trying to recover from an unconscious image of James Kirk among the walking dead - eyes looking forward without feeling or thought. Vulcans did not dream, so this image must have been the last in his mind's eye before he lost consciousness.

//Control// Spock said internally, chiding himself for the lapse. He could not give in to the inevitable. There was no reason to panic now. He and his shipmates had been in danger before. There were always possibilities, and ways to work through dangerous situations.

Spock only allowed himself one illogical thought: he could not let Jim lose Aesina.

The wing flaps of his daemon brought him back to the present. He noticed the door to their cell was wide open, allowing T'Ra to fly directly to him. He did not allow himself the emotional reunion his human half desired, although having her with him again gave him a sensation akin to relief. He extended two fingers and touched them to her head.

"Dr. McCoy," she said, looking to the other man in the cell. Spock allowed his heart to sink as he realized his friend had escaped his attention. He crawled over to the doctor to feel his pulse and check breathing. He then gauged his brain activity through telepathic touch.

"He will not be unconscious much longer. We cannot wait for him to wake on his own," Spock said, rising to his knees. He hoisted the doctor into a sitting position against the wall and began to shake him.

After twenty-two point five seconds, McCoy muttered, “’M awake, you green-blooded….”

They were interrupted by Leauna stumbling into the cell. She appeared incredibly unsteady, but her face showed determination to get to her other half.

“Oh, thank God!” McCoy shouted. As soon as he was close enough, he threw his arms around his daemon.

They stayed entwined for barely a second before McCoy said, "Jim! Where’s Jim?"

Thanks to his daemon, Spock could feel an initial strong sure of fear surge from McCoy. This only made it harder to mask his own feelings.

"They took him, Doctor. I am unsure of how long it has been, but I must assume we have little time to waste."

Leauna stood straight on her four legs as McCoy pushed himself up. No sooner was he on his feet did McCoy stride through the open cell door. Spock followed close behind. Although quick, their pace was not enough to take his mind off what could have been happening to Jim at this very moment. Twice in his life he was sure Jim was going to die. Both times he had come close to losing his emotional control. This third time was too much. He had slipped once, and was coming close to slipping again. The Vulcan attempted to recite equations related to the theory of warp travel to keep his mind off distractions.

//Do you not think if there were ever a time to show you feelings, it would be now?// came the familiar voice of T'Ra.

//I would prefer an explanation of why my emotions are becoming so volatile. That way I can easily control them.//

//Well, if it will ease your mind, I will give you one explanation. You know what it is to come close to losing me.//

His companion was right. He knew the fear - which should not have existed if he were truly Vulcan - of his lifetime consort being taken. Although part of him knew this did not explain the previous two instances of fearful emotions, Spock contented himself with his realization. He strongly pushed the accompanying memories back into his mind. His controls were struggling enough. He would be no use to Jim if his mind was caught in the distant past.

"Lady D’Lana clearly did not anticipate us waking so soon," Spock said as he and the doctor left the dungeon chamber. "They left the cage door open as well, so they must have intended to let us go. Fortunately, Lady D’Lana's people are illogical in more ways than their assumptions about humans."

"Or in layman’s terms, they’re not too bright," McCoy said.

The pair continued to run down the hall at a moderate pace, not anticipating a long journey.

"Stop," T'Ra said.

Spock paused and mentally gathered the information his daemon sensed. "We ran by a laser two point three meters ago."

Spock did not get a chance to respond before they heard a distinct growl from behind. Coming upon them slowly in a predatory stance were two four-legged mammals who had sharp quills protruding out of golden fur. Every jagged tooth was visible, and none appeared smaller than human thumbs. The same was true for their exposed claws.

"I'm guessing these are Kraals," McCoy said with grim humor.

Spock nodded as he assumed the protective stance. "I would assume so. I also believe our captors do not wish us to leave after all."

~~~~~~~~~

When the tingle of the transporter beam faded, Kirk found himself in what looked like the bridge of the silver ship. It was much smaller than the Enterprise bridge, but looked to have similar equipment. The other five alien crew members - whose skin and hair were similar to their leader's - were making arrangements for imminent take-off. Based on their technology, Xarth were already benefitting from relations with the Federation.

"What's going to happen to the settlers?" Kirk asked, using the only weapon he had left: his words.

"They will live their lives," D’Lana said. "Someday humans will learn they can live without daemons, just like they figured out they can live without religion. We are simply helping the process along."

"Humans never gave up religion," the captain protested. "We just got it out of the way of progress.”

D’Lana grimaced. "Most races do believe in something otherworldly, particularly the weaker ones."

"That's pretty simplistic. What a race believes in doesn't reflect on a race's importance or strength. Many atheist races are some of the most moral people I have seen, while many theistic races are among the most progressive and intelligent. All understand how precious all life is. I'm guessing you don't share that conviction."

"You talk too much, Captain," she said, while beckoning to Dr. Weinburg, who now stood like a ghost in the corner. He took a hypo out of his pocket and came toward Kirk.

"What's in that thing?" Kirk said with a gulp. Facing his fate with dignity was becoming more and more difficult. The dead eyes of his captors burned into his brain.

"It is a formula we created to ease the shock of separation," the man with the shot said. "As you figured out, many colonists have died from the procedure."

"How many had to die before you realized the moral implications of your little 'procedure?'"

"We are not monsters, captain..."

"That's a bit hard to believe right now," Kirk said under his breath.

Weinburg continued, "Very few humans died in the proceedings before we began working on the medicine, and this was when we were ignorant of the implications the separation would bring. Many colonists were not put through it at all."

"Where are those colonists?"

"Unconscious, like your friends," D’Lana said. "They are in the barracks within the mountain, which are reinforced in such a way that your sensors could not reach. They will wake when we leave."

The pressure of a hypo pricked Kirk’s arm and he immediately began to feel a mental haze. All potential fight melted away.

//No// he forced himself to say. //I have to stall for as long as I can.//

"Why didn't...you use…another colonist to get…the energy you needed?"

"I saw you on the Federation news wire and wanted yours."

Kirk furrowed his brow. "Me? How would I be any different...oh." Kirk may have a muddled brain, but he still remembered T'Ra's words loud and clear. "You picked my daemon….like that doggie in the window."

D’Lana lifted an eyebrow at the reference.

"Did you really think I was going to let some snot-nosed brat from Iowa have such a creature?"

"You don't even know me!" Kirk shouted, disguising the insecurities that bubbled to the surface. He looked to Aesina, remembering the multiple times he had thought himself unworthy of her.

//Focus, Jim// Aesina told him mentally.

//Yes. Sorry, ‘Sina.//

//It's okay, just keep her talking.//

"Are...you keeping the rest of the colonists unconscious with…telepathy?"

"Yes, but your friends are physically unconscious. I saw no reason to restrain them any other way. They will not get to you in time."

She sounded so sure of herself, Kirk almost believed her. "Why didn't you just...compel me to go with you?"

"I do not wish to take control of conscious minds, Captain. It is a complicated process."

The captain could feel his conscious thought fading by the minute. He had to keep talking. He had to stay awake. He had to fight.

"Then...what about...Dr. Weinburg...what about...the gentlemen who have my arms?"

"They need a little help before they can think on their own. The human dependence on daemons runs deep after all."

"Shouldn't that tell you something?" Aesina said. Normally she would not give such monstrous beings the dignity of hearing her voice, but she could not think of another way to reassure her parent she was still with him.

When the group came to a wide door, D’Lana stopped and turned to face Aesina. With a warm smile, she reached up and petted the daemon's head. Aesina flinched backward. Kirk looked with pure hatred at the woman who was pawing his daemon like she had some right.

Aesina found the strength to pull her head away from the alien woman's touch. She reached out her hand to touch Kirk's shoulder, but could not reach. The frustration of separation and alien hands around her was adding to the anger.

"I still don't understand how you humans can be so selfish. You are a social race. You live among others on a regular basis. I am an outcast among my people. I have no one. Is it so wrong to want what you have?"

Kirk’s sympathy was brief. "Just because you have a crappy life doesn't mean you can just take to get what you want. All the half-assed justifications in the world can't change that. I don't think you even believe all your two-bit logic."

"I am only telling you my point of view, Captain." D’Lana said with an incredulous expression. She placed her hand on the door and it swished open. "If you cannot accept it, then so be it. It will not change your fate."

Kirk was practically dragged through the doorway into the cramped room. Inside were two metal beds separated by a thin space, each had a nylon net hanging off the side by metal clasps. Above the bed was a long horizontal blade resembling a guillotine. Infused in the blade were energy conductors - much like one would find in a lightning rod - which fed into a multitude of wires running through the ceiling.

The metal in the blade was a dingy purple. Olomite. The only substance in the galaxy known to cut through ethereal bonds.

The guillotine brought home what the multitude of dead eyes and forced capture had not - he was going to lose Aesina...and these bastards would not let him die.

~~~~~~~~

"Any ideas?" McCoy whispered to his friend. They were backing away slowly from the pair of Kraals whose saliva dripped from their jaws in hungry anticipation. Every slow step they took, the two men took another backward.

"Negative, Doctor. If we run, they will pursue and overtake us. If we remain stationary, they will attack us. We could try to frighten them, but their fear quotient appears severely diminished from hunger."

"Well, for now we should keep eye contact, and make no sudden movements. I'd also suggest showing your teeth."

"These creatures do not resemble Terran mountain lions, Doctor."

"We don't have much more to go on, do we?" McCoy said as he drew back his lips as far as he could while extending his arms to appear bigger. This did not deter the two animals as they licked their lips.

"Do you see anything we can fight them off with?"

"I am unable to look due to the eye contact I am required to make."

"Forget the eye contact! I think these animals are just as desperate as you..."

It took a fraction of a second for the animal to jump on McCoy, pinning him to the ground. The other did the same with Spock. They felt the sharp pain as the quills pierced their abdomens. McCoy managed to grab the creature by the neck, but the claws digging into his shoulders drained is strength.

Spock did not lose his footing when his attacker pounced. He was able to counter and pin the creature to the ground. The Kraals had impressive agility despite their emaciated appearance. The creature slipped away from Spock and was on its feet within a second. It jumped on Spock’s supine body, this time getting closer to his face. The contact allowed Spock to ascertain the creature did not have the mental capacity for a meld, and there were no nerves close enough to the skin for an efficient pinch.

In his own struggle, McCoy had managed to rip one of the detached quills from the creature's stomach and was using it frantically stab at any place he could reach on the animal's body. Both of his arms were needed to keep razor-sharp teeth from taking a bite out of his face, so opportunities were few. His arms were losing strength, and he would not last much longer if this continued. In one last burst of strength, he managed to prod the quill into a sensitive spot. The animal recoiled. McCoy took no time to enjoy his advantage before he stabbed quill into the animal's neck. Milky white blood squirted onto the doctor’s tattered uniform as the dying kraal thrashed in its death throes.

The doctor turned to aid his friend and saw Spock overcame his attacker at roughly the same time. The Vulcan managed to get his hands around its neck and break it, killing the kraal instantly.

"Took you long enough," McCoy said while trying to catch his breath. "So much for…Vulcan strength."

The doctor had a quill embedded in his arm and deep gashes all over his torso. Spock was in much the same condition, his tunic soaked with green blood.

"I simply am much more cautious before I eliminate a life, Doctor. Now I believe our captain is in need of rescue."

McCoy nodded as Leauna returned to his side. Both daemons had made themselves scarce during the attack, but were feeling just as much pain and exhaustion.

Spock and McCoy continued down the corridor, but at a much slower pace.

~~~~~~~~

Kirk and Aesina squirmed in the arms of their captors, but in their weakened state, their efforts were useless. They were dragged the cold metallic beds and were held in place while the nets secured them.

"Aesina!" Kirk squeaked out. He wanted to shout. To curse. To tell the universe it was a fucking bastard. To do anything.

"Jim, it’s no use. I can't fight them."

Kirk’s eyes brimmed with tears. She was so close, and yet he could not reach her. The touch he had depended on through broken hearts and hangovers and bitter fights and alien threats - he would never feel it again. The touch of paw closing around a finger. The kind words. The arguments over how many drinks he could manage in a night. Kirk hated himself for taking it all for granted

All Aesina meant to him was impossible to compound, because a daemon was everything. From the time a man is born, to the time he dies, the daemon is there - even as wives, lovers, and friends come and go.

"I love you, Aesina. You'll always be mine, no matter what."

"Jim, please, don't die. We have to find each other."

"I won't live without you. I can't be less than human. That's no existence."

"We will find each other. If you live, please hold on. We will die together."

"We're not optimists. We're realists, remember? We lost. It's over. I’ll never see my ship again. I'll never...fall in love again."

Kirk let out a sob. This time seemed far too short, especially as electric currents crackled above their heads.

"I should have fought harder. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Jim. Never your fault."

"I've never told you how I've felt. I thought it was too damn sentimental. Now I wish I could have loved on you every minute of every day."

"You never had to, Dummy. We're the same person."

The machine continued its calculated song, and Kirk prayed desperately for time to stop. Where were Bones and Spock? If they had not shown up by now, they never would. No last minute stays. No second chances.

"Dammit, can I please have a few more minutes?" Kirk shouted through his tears. "I'm never going to see her again. Please."

The workers ignored him. The taller man moved to a large red button on the wall that Kirk knew would seal their fate.

"Bones and Spock will help you through," Aesina said through her own tears.

"No! NO!!!"

"Goodbye, Jim! Goodbye!"

~~~~~~~~~

McCoy knew in his heart they were almost there, but the same heart did a free fall when he heard a shriek behind him. Leauna collapsed as a familiar feeling came on.

Spock crouched to take his trembling daemon in his arms. The sight was disconcerting to the doctor. He had never seen Spock embrace his daemon before.

"Pain," was all he heard from T'Ra in a small voice. It was all McCoy needed to hear. He picked up a whimpering Leauna and held her close to his chest. They knew they were too late.

"Spock...we can’t…we have to keep going."

The Vulcan nodded, and got to his feet with difficulty. He continued holding the trembling bird close to his heart. The look on Spock's face betrayed his weakened controls.

When the pair reached the hanger at last, they found the scaffold empty, the ship gone. The transparent roof was slowly closing, betraying the quick exit. Underneath where the ship had rested, a cluster of severed settlers had gathered with their hands clasped.

Without a second thought, McCoy ran at the sight with Spock close behind. He pushed aside the gaggle of people to see the object of their interest.

It was Kirk.

McCoy’s entire body felt numb, as if time has stopped. The captain’s chest rose and fell, eyelids blinked at regular intervals, and his skin was pink.

But Aesina was gone.

"Jim," McCoy gasped as tears filled his eyes. He fell to his knees beside the trembling body of his best friend. Immediately, he felt Kirk’s cold fingers digging into his arms, as if desperate for any kind of contact. McCoy shirked Starfleet decorum and took the captain’s head to his lap.

"Aesina," Kirk croaked. The diminished childlike pallor of his voice only broke McCoy’s heart further.

He looked up through his tears to see the settlers still there, with heads bowed and eyes closed. They were praying. McCoy was amazed they still managed to do this. He hoped someone was listening to them, but he did not have high hopes. Any God worth a damn would have stopped this.

After a moment, McCoy caught Spock kneeling beside his captain. The Vulcan placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder, his face a picture of hidden pain. What T'Ra felt in the tunnel must have still resonated in him. Spock normally kept his daemon's abilities discrete, but in this case it was impossible.

Leauna fought through her own trembling to walk over to T’Ra and touch a nose to her crest.

"Aesina. Where's Aesina?" Kirk whimpered, still clinging on to both his friends as if desperate for contact.

"Do not fear, Jim," Spock said with his voice betraying grief and anger. "We are with you, and we will get your daemon back."


	5. Grief

When the blade fell, all that existed was pain. It was physical at first - like his heart was being torn from his chest. A cold then descended over him. He felt isolated from the world and everyone in it. Like an island in a vast ocean. He became very aware of every breath and heartbeat, because they were what was keeping him in this hell.

He could not remember anything. No friends. No family. No home. Just existence was all he knew. Soon, other sensations entered his awareness, but did not bring any more light to his isolation. He knew when he was lifted from the cold surface. He knew he instantaneously found himself on another cold surface. He knew a loud noise made the large shiny object fly away. He knew faces now surrounded him. Faces like his.

He saw a face he recognized. Bones. Bones McCoy. Yes, he did have a past. This isolated existence was not all there was. He knew there were feelings associated with him at one point, but none existed now.

The man he once knew had grabbed him, but not like the others had. This touch was gentle, and more careful. This was a touch he knew in the past, one his tattered mind associated with the time before, when there was light in this world and not darkness. He latched onto Bones McCoy, hoping some light would reemerge, but none did. Still, he did not let go. With the contact, he did not feel alone. He was an island, but at least there was hope he was not alone in the vast expanse of nothing.

He had heard the man talking, and then remembered he could talk, too. However, only one word in his muddled mind seemed important - Aesina.

This was the name of the light - the flame that allowed him to navigate the vast existence which seemed so alien to him now. There seemed to be memories, thoughts, feelings, and sensations in him beyond what he was comprehending. They might as well been in a foreign language. He knew Aesina could help him. He could bridge this vast chasm and understand why he lived in this unending ocean, or why the ocean existed at all.

He felt another touch on his shoulder. This contact was warmer than Bones McCoy's, but was just as gentle. He then heard a voice. So deep. So...beautiful. It was not Aesina. It was not the light. But there was hope there. This voice brought on feelings that were different than for Bones McCoy. Through the chaos, a name emerged he could match with the melodic tones. Spock. Yes, another man he knew before. Another reminder of the existence that was. A time when things made sense.

He reached the other arm out to touch this Spock. When he achieved contact, it brought comfort, but no light. No Aesina. Unlike Bones McCoy, Spock tried to hide his feelings. He did not blame this being. Feelings hurt. He remembered that much. He did not know why, but he was sure there was something bad about them. They lay beneath his existence like a standing army, ready to overtake his defenses when there was a hint of weakness.

~~~~~~~~~

A nearby clatter startled McCoy out of a pit of grief. He turned to look at three communicators and three dead phasars. The doctor mentally kicked himself for forgetting about the ship. Above their tools was see the little girl with flowers in her hair - he remembered her name was Annalise.

"Thank you," McCoy said. "I'm sorry we didn't get here in time to save you."

"Use them...to help us," Annalise said in monotone.

"I'll try," the doctor whispered.

McCoy slid one of the communicators in Spock's direction, but the Vulcan did not seem to notice. His eyes were closed and he appeared to be fighting for control. He then noticed Kirk had grabbed at Spock's leg. The grip was likely tight enough to reach Spock's telepathy even through the regulation slacks.

The doctor wanted to ask what the Vulcan was feeling through Kirk's touch, but he could not stomach the answer yet.

The chirp of the communicator made McCoy angry at himself once more. He should have been the one to call the Enterprise first. They were likely about to send a battalion down to search for him.

"McCoy here," he said, unable to keep the catch out of his voice.

"Where the bloody hell have ye been, Doctor?" Scotty said, practically yelling. "Do we need to send reinforcements?"

McCoy was unsure how to answer. "There are at least a dozen settlers down here who are in need of...help. The captain...he’s in bad shape."

"What kind of help? Ye'll have to be more specific, Doctor."

McCoy knew he could not be delicate with this situation, so he decided to come right out and say it. "I don't know what kind of help you can offer when someone's daemon's been cut away."

There was a pregnant silence of the other end of the transmission. He could practically hear the bridge crew gasp.

"Leonard, what happened?"

McCoy summed up the situation the best he could while keeping his tears at bay.

"Er…Er ye and Mr. Spock okay?"

McCoy looked to the ship’s First Officer, who by now had gained some control over himself. His injuries had stopped bleeding, but was in awful shape nonetheless. The doctor doubted he looked any better, but the pain had long since gone to the back of his mind. The injuries they gained when fighting the kraal seemed superficial compared to the injuries of those surrounding them.

"We will likely need Dr. M'Benga's assistance," McCoy said with a sigh. "Beam us up as soon as you can. I want to get off this damn planet."

~~~~~~~~

As soon as the three officers were beamed onto the Enterprise, the unharmed colonists began to wake from their induced sleep. Scotty sent an emissary and several counselors to help the devastated population until Federation agents arrived to help rebuild. McCoy had mixed feelings about some of the colonists being alive. On one hand, there was hope for their future, but they would have to live with their loved ones' pain for the rest of their lives.

Both the doctor and Spock were protective of their captain when they came abroad. McCoy scowled at the transporter chief’s shocked face. He clearly did not realize he was staring.

"Get a stretcher in here. Now!" He shouted more forcefully than was necessary. This was only the first person to encounter his severed friend. He would have to get used to the stares.

The gurney came within thirty seconds and Spock carefully laid the younger man down. Kirk's fingers remained buried in Spock’s uniform, the green blood again oozing from his wounds.

"Oh my God," came the distraught voice of Nurse Chapel, her fox daemon hiding behind her legs.

"Don't get lost, Nurse," McCoy shouted.

The woman nodded and scanned the captain with a medical tricorder. "H-his heart rate and blood pressure are far too high. He has had multiple small seizures already.”

"We must put him to sleep," Spock said. "They appeared to give him drugs to ease the shock of separation, but they are wearing off. We must keep him sedated, or his body will shut down under the stress."

"Of course," the nurse said, appearing embarrassed. The two lab techs - whose daemons gave away their own discomfort - wheeled the incapacitated captain through the halls, his two best friends remaining by his side.

~~~~~~~~

In the twelve hours since they returned from Cerebus II, McCoy had been the primary person sitting by Kirk’s bedside. Spock was reluctant to leave Kirk’s side, but the ship needed to be captained and Scotty needed to return to his engines. Even with this sense of duty, leaving Kirk felt wrong, like he was leaving T’Ra behind. The Vulcan was tempted to leave his daemon with the captain, but to be so far from her would only make his emotional compromise more pronounced. Not to mention that seeing another familiar crew member without their daemon would cause more pain to a traumatized crew.

He had updated Starfleet on the race who had decimated the colony and their CO. Two Admirals had suggested Kirk be transferred to a Starbase for further testing along with the other settlers, but Spock knew what that would lead to. There were special facilities for those whose mental capacities had failed, and the captain's current state made such a placement a given. As the Admirals had reminded him, even if they knew where Aesina was, Kirk's condition was likely permanent.

A Federation-wide alert was broadcast to search for the alien ship. Even if they saw getting Aesina back as futile, catching a group of murderers and mutilators was in the Federation's best interest.

The main problem was no one knew where to start looking. Scotty did not detect any ship leaving the planet, so they surmised they must have a cloaking device. There was little to do but wait until someone spotted the craft, or they attacked another Federation outpost. Spock knew there was little they could do in the meantime short of putting the mission on hold and dragging 430 crew to blindly search for one small ship. The Admirality made a point of saying this, despite their clear discomfort about one of their most prominent captains suffering such a fate. Spock new they were right, but this did not make the inactivity any easier.

After 12 hours on duty, Spock left the bridge and relieved McCoy.

"Spock," McCoy said as he roused the silent Vulcan. He looked at the chronometer and found he has been sitting with Kirk for over eight hours.

Spock realized he had been in a trance watching Kirk sleep. His wounds had long since been patched, and now the fingers digging into his arm did not present as much discomfort. They had discovered that even when sleeping, Kirk became agitated without skin to skin contact.

"Of course, Doctor," Spock said. T'Ra had been in his lap, and as he got up, he used one arm to carry her close to his chest.

//You know this is not normal decorum// his daemon reminded him.

//I am merely experimenting with a safer way of having you with me. Are you complaining?//

//No, but I thought it worth mentioning. We have been having difficulty keeping control, after all. Our unusual closeness will make it more apparent.//

When Spock pulled out of Kirk’s hand, the captain let out a pained moan. Suddenly, the Vulcan wanted to ignore his duty and stay right where he was. His hesitation must have been outwardly obvious, because a night nurse put a hand on his shoulder before sitting in his place and taking Kirk's hand. While Spock was satisfied, a hint of anger surged within.

//Jealousy,// T'Ra said. //I feel it, too. It felt good to be the one to ease his pain.//

//I did not feel this way when Dr. McCoy did the same.//

//Dr. McCoy is Jim’s best friend. It is logical he would bring comfort. But this is a stranger, who likely has never spoken to the captain.//

Spock squeezed his daemon in admonishment. //I will not have you doing this again. We must remain in control of all emotions. I am a Vulcan. I am the First Officer of this ship.//

//Not many Vulcans or First Officers sit by the commanding officer's bed for hours at a time.//

//The captain becomes distressed whenever he loses physical contact with another. McCoy and I would be the best candidates to do so.//

//You are not fooling yourself.//

//Your attempts to distract me are not conducive to our functioning. Sometimes I contemplate what would have happened if I had taken T'Pau's advice and been rid of you.//

//You know better than this, Spock. I have towed the line for a long time because in many cases it was the right thing to do, but in this case I must speak up. Something is happening to us. Something we have never experienced before.//

"Spock, are you coming?" McCoy called from his office. The Vulcan realized he had been standing stationary without purpose and made his way to the office. Leauna was awkwardly draped across the doctor’s lap. This was clearly an uncomfortable position, but Spock understood the need for increased contact.

McCoy sat in a visitor’s chair so he could face the first officer. Spock was unsure about what his friend wanted to talk about, although there might not be a purpose at all. McCoy had bags under his eyes and slumped over in an uncharacteristic manner.

McCoy slumped so that his head hit the wall. He slid his hand through his hair and rubbed his eyes. They still looked red and swollen, although he had not openly cried. Spock noted his normally outspoken doctor was at a loss for words.

"What is on your mind, Doctor?"

"I feel like a wrung out sponge." McCoy groaned. He smiled sadly. "There doesn't seem to be an end to the creative ways sentient beings have to destroy each other."

"Have you been talking to Leauna?" Spock asked.

"You talk like I'm his therapist," the daemon in question sighed.

"I guess I just need to feel pissed right now."

Spock nodded. "I understand, doctor. I admit it is hard to deny some negative feelings in this situation."

//Well. You are finally listening to me.//

//Dr. McCoy needs a friend. I am filling Jim’s role as well as I can.//

"I actually called you in here to talk to you. You haven't been yourself since this whole thing started. I know these circumstances lend themselves to emotionalism, but I still feel like there is something you're not telling me about how you're feeling."

Spock felt shock, but did not let it show. McCoy was typically aggressive about Spock’s lack of emotionalism, but now he was being gentle. An odd change, to say the least, but one resembling the pity he showed while he was injured during the Franklin mission. T'Ra had been right. He was slipping. Something was happening within him. He knew Dr. McCoy would not be able to give satisfactory advice, such as how a true Vulcan would handle this situation. However, he would experience far too much judgment talking to one of his peers.

“I still remember what you said during the Franklin mission, about the older you not having a daemon. I can’t help but see a connection.”

Spock closed his eyes. “I have not thought on such things since this morning. There are other thoughts occupying my mind.”

“It’s called grief, Spock…”

“I know what grief is!” Spock immediately regretted the outburst. Thoughts of his disintegrating planet and his mother falling to her death appeared at the edge of his awareness.

How much would he have to lose in such a short time?  

“Forgive me,” Spock said, green rushing to his cheeks.

//Leonard has seen us cry. He listened without judgment as we grieved for our counterpart. It would be illogical to feel shame.//

The Vulcan now knew how illogical it had been to fight with T'Ra, particularly now when she had proven herself right. Spock did not see the logic in attempting to maintain emotional control.

“I’m sorry, Spock,” the doctor said. “I know you’ve grieved before. That was stupid to say.”

Spock forgave the human, but he did not allow this to show on his face. "Grief is not what I am experiencing, Doctor. Humans have an inherent desire to comfort and remain close to a sick loved one, but Vulcans have no such desires. We heal in isolation, and the closeness of others only confuses our mental processes and retards healing."

"So your vigil by Jim’s bedside is shirking a Vulcan norm?" McCoy’s eyebrows went to his hairline. "You didn’t seem worried about that when Khan put Jim in a coma."

Words stalled on Spock’s tongue, so T’Ra took over. “This too was a breach in norms, but we did not allow ourselves to ponder upon this until now.”

Spock took up for his daemon. "The need to be near the captain proves I have encountered emotions which are slipping past my controls and interfering with my duty."

McCoy sighed. "You have a friend in dire straits, Spock. It's to be expected. Of all the times we’ve been in deadly shit, your human side was quite conspicuous. But this time...I'm noticing some differences."

Spock looked to the light brown deer, and again to his friend's face. "I do not see how a psychoanalysis of my reactions to certain situations is relevant at a time like this."

McCoy took a deep breath, allowing the tension to leave his shoulders once he saw T’Ra becoming restless. "You mentioned similar emotions during Jim’s coma. Did they start then?"

This time, Spock could not hide his shock.

"We're more perceptive than you think we are," Leauna said, although not in the cocky tone the statement would call for. "You’ve been gradually pulling away from Jim, and don’t have that close friendship anymore. I thought it was because of the older you dying, but now that I think about it, things got weird before that."

T'Ra stood straight in Spock's lap while the Vulcan looked at the floor.

In a low voice, Spock finally said, "I acted shamefully with Khan. I should never have acted in such a rash manner."

"He has been using faulty logic in his dealings with these emotions," T'Ra said, referring to Spock as separate for the first time. "Denial is not a Vulcan trait we use often, but in this case it has been used far too much."

Spock gently placed two fingered on T'Ra's stomach and continued, "This will only become worse if something is not done. I will be a poor first officer if I do not remove myself from this situation."

"Now Spock, let's not get hasty," McCoy said, leaning forward. "You are being fatalistic about this. Which is another emotional state, I might add."

"You are correct," Spock said with some hesitation.

"I think it would be easier on you if we figure out where these emotions are coming from. They seem to revolve around Jim."

"Yes, that is what we surmised," T'Ra said.

"The captain is my friend," Spock picked up. "As you are, Doctor. However, the friendship I share for you both is in stark contrast."

McCoy furrowed his brow and appeared thoughtful. "Tell me, Spock. What do you think of Jim?"

Spock opened his mouth to speak, but found he could not. Saying what he wanted to say felt like the height of taboos. T'Ra had no such reservations.

"He is arrogant, and has a pervading emotionalism exceeds many humans. He has a penchant for imposing his views where they have no place, and has an obsession with bringing out our supposed hidden emotions while hiding his own cocky exterior. However..." Spock gulped and a familiar tightness came into his chest. He could not bring himself to look at McCoy as his daemon continued. "He is also one of the kindest souls we have ever known. His caring and intelligence are unmatched. His aura is...one of the most beautiful we have ever seen."

T'Ra paused, and Spock flushed green.

"When he was willing to give his life for the ship, we were in awe. I had completely forgotten the arrogant student we met at the academy. His respect of life - all life - exceeds most Vulcans we know. He..."

T'Ra could not continue. The tightness had encompassed Spock's entire torso. He looked up to McCoy, who was now staring at him with awe.

Spock said, "I have never understood what role the daemon served in the lives of humans - or myself. I still do not think it is possible to know the extent of the katra's purpose in the many forms it takes across races. However, I believe I caught a glimpse when Jim's thoughts forced their way to my awareness through the last time we touched. He is lost in a thick haze of thoughts and feelings and memories, and he cannot make sense of them. There is nothing linking them together. He has neither past nor future. He feels isolated. Eternally alone. What T'Ra felt - the deep agony - it is still there. I do not see it ceasing until a way is given for him to sustain himself.

"Illogically, I want to take his pain away. Such suffused loneliness and confusion - no one should have to live like that. I even...I asked the gods to let me take his place. I would have given my soul to him if it meant he could continue. A man so good...so beautiful...I felt I had to save him. I could not accept that...I...cannot bear the idea of that soul being lost forever," Spock finished.

McCoy wiped tears from his eyes. "Me either," he said. "But...I think I have a name for what's been bothering you Spock."

Spock was still reeling from how much he had just shared.

"Spock…did you love Nyota when you were together?"

“Of course. My feelings for her have always been positive.”

“Do you see any similarity between those feelings and the ones you’re having now?”

Spock knew what McCoy was suggesting, and his first instinct was to mentally lash out. However, T’Ra stopped him when she reminded him of his relationship with Uhura and the deep feelings they shared for each other. Their passion was genuine, but brief. Spock knew his feelings for her were real, but nothing was so simple after the destruction of Vulcan. All of his emotions had changed so drastically that learning how to control them again had been a months-long process. While he did feel love for Uhura, they reached a point where her feelings remained the same while his were changed beyond recognition. Uhura had gotten to a point where she wanted to touch T’Ra, but the daemon refused. This brought about the end of their relationship within a month.

As an experiment, Spock mentally probed about how T’Ra would feel touching Jim. No such resistance was found.

His silence prompted McCoy to say, "I know it may seem like a leap, but I know love better than most. I know what it looks like. Your actions toward Jim in the past year...the way you have been looking at him, even when you ere at your most distant - not to mention the glow on your face when you talked about him just now..."

"Vulcans do not 'glow,' Doctor."

"Well, whatever it was, it helped me put all the pieces together."

Spock’s fingers dug into T'Ra. He tried to explain these sensations to himself. He wanted to tell the doctor he was wrong, that he could not feel love anymore – not without his people to anchor him. There was no emotion that conquered the mind and logic more than romantic love, and giving oneself to such fancies was dangerous. Despite knowing this, giving the emotions a name allowed the Vulcan to sense them clawing for release.

The daemons of both men met on the floor. T'Ra chirped and her feathers ruffled with the onslaught of feeling. Leauna licked her crest in a symbol of comfort. Spock could not let himself take the gesture in. He needed vigilance at this time.

"I’m sorry," McCoy said. "I didn’t intend to talk about this today, especially after all this mess being so fresh. But when you brought it up…” McCoy sighed and rose from his seat before tentatively putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Now that I know what you're going through, I feel helpless. The pain of watching someone you love suffer is...there is no way to describe it."

The statement brought Spock back to what McCoy said in the cell, about his ex-wife and his daughter. Spock wanted to ask him more, but that would have to be at another time. "What good will this knowledge have now?” Spock said instead. “Jim is an invalid. He likely will be for the rest of his life. What good will my debilitating feelings have to him?"

McCoy squeezed the Vulcan’s shoulder. "Love can be debilitating, but motivating. It can drive you to move heaven and earth."

"Highly impractical, Doctor. I am a logical being at my core. I know the chances of Jim improving. I have no drive right now but to...despair."

“You and me both,” McCoy said. "But I can’t give up hope. Stranger things have happened."

"Doctor, this conversation is not only pointless, but unhelpful."

"Spock, stop it," T'Ra said firmly. She then turned to Leauna. "I know it was not easy to hear any of this."

"All I want is for you and Jim to be happy," McCoy said softly. "And if you can give each other even a modicum of happiness - even now - all the pain will be worth it."

"I cannot make him happy," Spock said, trying and failing to reign in his antagonism. "Only Aesina could do that now."

McCoy sat back down in his chair. Spock could not look at him, and was feeling stirrings of guilt for the deflection of any comfort the doctor had tried to offer. Still, it was this man who had helped unleash the torrent of confusing feelings surging through his mind. In a small way, he now understood what Jim’s mind must be like - so many thoughts emotions swirling within with no way to make sense of them.

//There is a difference, Spock,// T'Ra said, her frustration showing through their link. //You have me.//

The silver daemon nuzzled Leauna's face in gratitude, and walked over to McCoy. She stood by his leg and put a talon on his shoe.

"You are a good friend," the t’resh’ka said. "Thank you, but I feel we must be left alone now."

When Spock opened his eyes, McCoy had left.


	6. Quenched

D’Lana was frustrated as Aesina's mind remained hard to navigate. She had wanted to establish a mental link right away - for the daemon's sake as much as her own - but there was a stubbornness in the earth creature that defied anything she had ever encountered.

"This is her first time disconnected with the human, m'lady. She might be trying to adjust," Dr. Weinburg had told her as they sat in the woman's quarters.

"She will adjust much easier if she attuned with me," D’Lana spat.

"But Lady D’Lana, you are acting like this creature cannot survive without connection to another. Would this not be a contradiction to what you have been saying?"

D’Lana looked to the older man with a frustrated eye. "If you continue to ask asinine questions, I will simply shape your mind into complete obedience like the others. Humans can survive, but the daemons cannot. Humans are descended from animals who do not have souls, so they have proven through ancestry they can live separately. Daemons would not exist if not for humans."

"Then we are condemning the daemons to death?"

D’Lana stroked the trembling monkey in her lap. She did not appear to have any recognition of the touch, nor anything else around.

"This is why we are doing this, Dr. Weinburg. If we are to convince the humans to give us their energy, then we must provide ways for them to live as full a life as possible. This is a first step."

"Lady D’Lana," Weinburg said while looking down to his lap. "What if the Captain and First Officer of the Enterprise escaped the Kraals? This means word would have gotten out about what we have done and our campaign will be over before it begins."

"If they did, their captain will have warned them not to follow us."

"Only if he had all his mental faculties. From what I have heard of the Enterprise, they will not take this lying down."

"We had no choice!"

"We could have not brought our campaign upon the crew of a Federation starship! I told you to use one of the other colonists, but you wouldn't listen! Admit it, m'lady. You wanted the Federation involved. Specifically, you wanted the Enterprise. You did not care if it ruined your whole plan. You wanted the monkey by your side."

The slight Xarth furrowed her brow, and looked again to the daemon in her lap. It stood so still and cold - holding none of the former beauty which had initially attracted her to it. D’Lana could not help but be disappointed at her catch.

"You were there when I first saw her on the Federation news broadcast," D’Lana said softly. "It was as if she was calling to me. We were made for each other. Even through the screen, I knew we were both looking, and wanting what we could never have."

Dr. Weinburg tilted his head. "Have you ever heard the Terran story of David and Bathsheba?"

D’Lana shook her head, looking confused.

"Thousands of years ago, there was a great king named David who saw a woman named Bathsheba bathing on her roof. He knew he must have her, but she was already married. So David sent her husband off to war, where he was killed, leaving David to wed Bathsheba. Well, Yahweh - which is what the Jews called God at that time - sent a prophet who told the king a story of a wealthy man who wanted a destitute trader's beloved pet lamb. The wealthy one killed the man in order to take the lamb, and an indignant King David demanded the first man be killed. The prophet then turned around and accused King David himself of being that man. Yahweh then allowed their first born child to die."

"What does one of your Jewish stories have to do with me?"

Weinburg gulped. "The colonists you severed kept their daemons, and they still were not happy. In Captain Kirk’s case, you have truly left him with nothing."

"Which is what I have had my entire life!" Shouted D’Lana, now rising to her feet. "Your little story does not show me as the rich king, but as the ill-fated trader. I'm sure your King David had wives and harems at his disposal, and yet he wanted more, as people often do. They want their perfect lives in their perfect, shining houses eating up ores like they are in infinite supply. All this while callously discarding those who might mar the perfection. I was not just rejected by my people, Doctor. They took away my personhood - my soul - all for the sake of a more comfortable and uncomplicated existence. Now their minerals are gone, and their efforts were for naught. All those like me were relegated to the garbage pile for nothing. Interestingly, the divine punishment seems to show who really represents the whoring monarch in your story."

"But...D’Lana" The older man said, sounding unsure. The woman in question shook her head, frustrated at this man's continued cluelessness. "You are beautiful, and strong, and can make any friends you want. But you chose to hang onto this bitterness, which will only destroy you."

As the aged scientist fell to the ground unconscious, D’Lana felt rejuvenated at the extra energy at having one less mind to encompass. Although a hint of sadness touched her, she quickly quashed it. Soon, she would not need the old man anymore.

"When you wake up, you will not be as chatty," the woman said to the still form as she carried Aesina into the bedroom. She lay the small being onto the silk comforter of her bed, and looked to her with wonder. She had waited years to find the right companion, and now she was before her, waiting for her mind to be reawakened and find herself with her true lifetime partner. She just had to try harder.

"You do belong to me," D’Lana said with a smile. "That damn captain did not deserve you."

She knelt down so she eye level with the creature. "I do not believe in fate, but if I did, I would say Captain Kirk and I were switched somehow in the cosmic plan. He was meant to be cursed and lonely and I was to have the great power!"

//You do not know him// came a familiar voice from inside. //You are simply projecting what you want to believe.//

"Shut up!" D’Lana growled while throwing her hands to her ears. Her inner voice always showed up at horrible times.

//I will not be silent.//

"No! NO! I am not weak. I will not be lonely any longer. I have come too far, and I will get what is mine. I will use this energy, and I will free my people. My powers will not be feared, but will be worshipped. The humans...they will cower before me, and every lonely Xarth cast aside will have a daemon. They will know true friendship, and no longer be miserable. The Xarth who oppressed, they will see their error, and we will inflict on them the pain they inflicted on us."

D’Lana was sweating and smiling maniacally. She looked to the monkey again, who remained unmoved. Energy surged within her and she drew the creature's mind to her once again. She could see the tendrils of bright energy emirate from her mind and curl around the broken connections dangling from every inch of the precious daemon's body. As with her other attempts, there was resistance, but this time D’Lana was not as gentle. This being would die without a bond. The connection was meant to be, and it would come together naturally once initiated no matter how forced. This was for the daemon's own good, and if D’Lana did not make her comply now, they would not have as much time to nurture the connection. They had lost too much time already.

The tendrils aggressively stabbed into Aesina with quick precision. The monkey let out a cry and writhed on the bed. D’Lana could not stop now. Her essence was beginning to merge with the remnants of the bond. Aesina’s limbs and tail were thrashing so fiercely that the sheets flew around her like the waves in a hurricane.

//Stop...// came a small voice. D’Lana knew it immediately. The connection was taking hold.

//Just a little longer dearest// the woman cooed, as she felt the last of the broken connection meld with her own.

"There!" She shouted with triumph. The daemon stilled, buried in the ruined bedding. D’Lana threw the shreds of silk aside to find Aesina looking around frantically. Her color had returned, and there was again life in the large obsidian eyes.

Aesina supported herself on all four limbs and limped into the waiting embrace of D’Lana.

"I have...come home?" The daemon asked in a small voice.

"Yes my dear," D’Lana said, hugging her close. "You are mine at last. I have waited for so long to be united with you."

"And we will...be together always?"

D’Lana let copious tears fall from her eyes and fall on the daemon's fur. "Yes. Always, my sweet Aesi..."

She stopped, not letting the word leave her tongue. This was not the creature's name anymore now that she had taken her rightful place.

"You were about to say my name, were you not?"

D’Lana smiled, happy the mental bond was so potent this soon. "I have not thought of a name for you yet, but...I recently heard a name I liked. Bathsheba."

//This would be poetic if we were in primary school// the other voice said again. This time, D’Lana ignored it. She had a new voice now.

"Bathsheba," the daemon said, trying out the name in her own voice. "I will have it if you wish it."

"I do wish it," D’Lana said, hugging her new companion close.

~~~~~~~~

It took an hour of attempted meditation for Spock to clear his head and think rationally. His goal had been to attempt and find a solution to their predicament, but in the absence of answers, different questions appeared. There was no possibility he could have been in love without knowing it. Such as strong emotion would have been known to him. The deep friendship for the man was apparent, but did he see Jim as a lover? A sexual partner? A life partner?

He knew what he felt for Nyota. The feeling had faded over time despite their continued friendship, but he had been in control of and aware of those emotions. Why not now? Why did not he not see the building strength of these desires?

Desires?

Such a word seemed uncouth, especially when the captain was incapacitated. However, as the word turned around in his mind, there was the realization that no other word was appropriate.

The Vulcan allowed his mind to stray to a recent memory, where he and the captain went on a jog in the gym shortly after Khan came into their lives.

Kirk had been shirtless while Spock had been full clothed in thermals while they ran on the treadmills. Aesina had been bouncing on Kirk’s control panel while T’Ra was calmly perched on Spock’s. Aesina let out a screech before Kirk grunted. The treadmill automatically stopped as it sensed Kirk’s distress.

“Jim?”

Spock stopped his own pace as he saw Kirk grasping the handrail and gasping for air. Ever since his coma, Kirk complained of difficulty breathing on several occasions in ways that resembled asthma attacks. McCoy theorized it was the radiation Kirk absorbed before Leauna and Uhura were able to pull him and Aesina out of the chamber on top of the strange reaction to Khan’s blood.

“Jim!” Spock repeated as he jumped to Kirk’s aid. Spock gently guided Kirk into the sitting position and let a struggling Aesina into his lap. T’Ra flew to Spock’s shoulder as the Vulcan held the other man.

“Breathe with me, Jim.”

“It…hurts…”

These attacks had been getting rarer, but they never became less frightening. Spock held the bare skin of Kirk’s shoulders – a luxury he never allowed himself with his friend before this moment. Spock had no time to think on such a first.

“Breathe with me.” Spock repeated as he modeled long breaths in his nose and out his mouth. Kirk mimicked him as best he could while his chest shook and his grip on Aesina tightened. The monkey gave tiny whimpers, a sound Spock had never heard from her before today. T’Ra hopped to the ground so she could nuzzle the monkey’s head, an action that shocked Spock into taking a second-long pause in his breathing.

As unintentional as it was, the comfort seemed to work, and Kirk’s breathing returned to normal two minutes later.

“Oh God,” Kirk said, leaning back on the wall where Spock had placed him. “I’m so fucking sick of these.”

“You are making great improvements,” Spock said, his hands still on Kirk’s shoulders. He did not want to let go. The touch exuded an odd sense of warmth, of joy. While Kirk’s waning fear filtered through, relief and comfort overwhelmed it.

As Spock thought back to that moment, a strange feeling came over him – a feeling that radiated from his forehead down to his toes. Spock’s cock twitched as heat pooled in his lower torso. The memory began to morph as his imagination rebelled. The image of Jim from the past lifted his head so that his piercing blue eyes looked right at him. The captain’s hand then covered Spock’s, causing the Vulcan to groan.

“I’d heard Vulcan hands were sensitive,” The image of Jim said. “I wonder if the daemon is the same.”

//We had gone to Sickbay,// the logical portion of Spock’s mind said. //We had gone to sick bay. This is not what happened.//

Spock’s imagination ignored the plea.

The image of Jim reached his hand to T’Ra and slid an open palm over her crest and down her back. Spock’s heart raced. The strength and love poured out of his graceful hands and directly into his soul.

Spock pulled Jim forward and pressed their lips together. The captain started slowly at first, but opened his mouth to allow their tongues access. T’Ra and Aesina were touching. Spock knew this. He turned his head to allow Kirk to take the tip of his ear into his mouth, causing pleasure to spike.

As the image of the captain worked on his ear and neck, Spock looked at T’Ra and Aesina. The monkey nuzzled the t’resh’ka’s stomach as she nipped her ears. As if possessed, Spock’s hand gravitated toward the soul of the man he loved. As soon as his fingertip brushed against the being’s tail, his imagination provided the sensation of Jim’s lips around his cock.

“Kroyka!” Spock shouted aloud, not allowing the images to go any further. The message from his mind was loud and clear.

“We want him,” T’Ra chirped, he beak close to Spock’s ear.

Spock’s voice choked as he responded. “I believe such a conclusion is apparent.”

Spock clenched his fists and scolded himself by making an image of Jim in bed, pale and broken, in order to bring himself back to reality. No parts of him would have this man if he was…gone. There could be no thoughts about how he had fallen so deeply for this man that even in this state, his desires could act of their own accord.

“We must find a solution,” Spock whispered as he calmed his mind back to the controlled state. “We must find a way to keep him alive until we can find a cure.”

"I do not see how we will find any solutions unless we look inside Jim's mind," T'Ra said.

"I require your silence if I want to ground myself," the Vulcan said, steeling his mind.

T'Ra flew to his shoulder. "What good would grounding ourself do if we do not know details of what is happening. I cannot sense anything because his brain signals are nearly impossible to read. If you go deeper, we will likely have a better idea of how to help."

"His mind will be perilous," Spock said. "If I meld with him, the emptiness could consume me."

"Danger has not stopped you in the past. I suppose you are afraid your motives are not pure based on our feelings."

Spock pursed his lips. “Based on what we have indulged in, to meld with him would be highly inappropriate.”

"You know there is no other way. We have enough control to not take advantage."

Spock hesitated. "This does not only pertain to my…feelings. I do not know if I will be able to control myself upon seeing the captain's pain again." The memories of him gasping for air with lips tinged blue was enough to cause his chest to clench in fear. What reaction would his mangled brain cause?

"I know. I was there, too. Do you remember how much we wanted to alleviate his pain? We will have to risk our controls eroding further if we want to do that."

The Vulcan attempted to think of other alternatives, but none came. He was the only one who could look at the damage in a way that could actually create progress, at least in the short term. Time could very well be of the essence. "Yes, I do not see any other alternatives at this time."

"You are merely repeating what I said," T'Ra said as parent rose. "This is not a problem. I am right."

Spock gathered his shields so he could bring himself to walk out the door and face his Enterprise crew mates. He barely remembered the walk to sickbay. He was determined to complete his task before he changed his mind.

Spock found Kirk in the same place he had left him: asleep and deathly pale. He was clutching at McCoy’s arm even though the exhausted doctor had fallen asleep in his chair. Spock pulled up a seat at the opposite side of the bed and stared at the sleeping captain. He remained on the drugs keeping him unconscious, but he still saw the movement of eyes beneath the lids and the subtle movement of lips trying to form words.

Spock hesitated, wondering if he had been too hasty in decided a mind meld was necessary, but the hesitance eased when he looked at the pain in Kirk's features. He ignored more distressing sights by focusing on the captain's more positive aspects, but once he started he realized he could not turn back.

Kirk had been aged by his time on the Enterprise, but he did not look old. By human standards, the man was aesthetically pleasing even as the stress had taken its toll on his body. He had some grey in his hair, but his skin remained smooth of wrinkles. There were cal

Spock remembered the look of blue eyes on him. Eyes so deep with love and compassion, like an endless sea. Spock looked on Kirk's lips and noticed how pink and soft they were. His hands were strong, and had rescued countless people. His stature exuded confidence while insecurity hid underneath. This was a man who would give his life for his friends and his ship. He had proven it time and time again. He was not merely a captain, but a healer. A guide.

T'Ra had been perched on the bed rail, watching Spock. There was no need to speak. She knew now was not the time to join this moment. With good fortune, that would come later.

Spock reached a hand out and gently stroked one of Kirk's cheeks. Although cold, it still had an endearing softness the Vulcan desired to explore further. He moved to cup the cheek, and Kirk leaned his head into the touch. The move nearly shattered Spock. If there were any remaining doubts about his feelings for Jim Kirk, they were erased.

His love was in pain, and maybe dying. His limp, miserable form was crying out for his soul to come back to him - to end the isolation and confusion.

A sob threatened to escape, but he held it back. He loved this man. He loved this man beyond description. He had to help him. He had to find a way.

Spock jerked back his hand when he realized he had nearly allowed the power of his emotions to overwhelm him. He remembered the one other time this had happened: when he was infected by the toxin from PSY 2000. The emotions had been like a billowing dust storm - impossible to avoid or navigate. Similar sensations growing within. The emotions were gathering strength, and there was no outside influence to give the blame to this time.

He retreated to the comfortable haven of logic, but even this was not as solid as it once was. The daemon was at the center of their current predicament, and it followed no processes he could quantify in his vast mind. The only scientific concept he could apply would be matter-energy conversion. The daemon was essentially a hologram, but one with physical form. Daemons were created from psychic energy expended at birth, although no one knew why such an outward physical manifestation occurred. Evidence of the first daemons has been found in ancient African tribes 50,000 years old. Stone coins engraved with images of animals were found with buried corpses. This mirrored burial traditions of later civilizations always making a way for the daemon and man to be together in the grave.

This was the extent of understanding. The course of human evolution was mapped in every detail, but the emergence of daemons remained a mystery. For all intents and purposes, they just "appeared" out of no where. None of the laws of physics, chemistry, astronomy, or biology accounted for the daemon. All they had were ancient myths describing when the daemon began to settle into one form. Spock had no frame of reference and no ability to discern a course of action except through the mysticism of his ancestors. But even those annals were ripe with uncertainty. Vulcans had no concept of daemons, and the human mysticism was too diverse and full of emotionalism to be of any use.

"It appears our logic is spent, which means it is time for our meld," T’Ra urged while glancing toward McCoy to make sure he still slept. Spock was still uncomfortable with letting the doctor see this side of himself.

Spock slowly moved his fingers to Kirk's psi points.

~~~~~~~~

Almost immediately, Spock was hit with the chaos and confusion of Kirk's mind. The closest Spock could equate it to was the illogical works of art by the Terran painter Jackson Pollack. The colors, the lines, the noises - none had any form or meaning.

If he were a less focused creature, the intensity of the confusion would have overwhelmed him already. Still, no amount of focus could protect his mind for much longer.

//Here, I'll lead the way,// came the confident voice of T'Ra. If they were on a physical plane, the Vulcan would have been immediately on the back of his daemon, flying through the maelstrom as a knife cuts through butter.

As they flew, they saw the thoughts beginning to organize themselves. Spock waded through and recognized feelings of hunger, thirst, fear, and many other basic, uncomplicated feelings.

//Fascinating,// Spock said during their flight. //All necessary survival mechanisms appear perfectly intact. These are the more primal areas of the mind - the part humans inherited from animal ancestors.//

//So it is only the higher functions that are affected,// T'Ra replied. //Everything which defines an intelligent being. Have any mind melds gone this far?//

//Not that I recall, but I suspect it was more for lack of need than for safety.//

//Nonetheless, we should leave. We do not want to damage any essential functions.//

//Not yet. This could shed light on the purpose of daemons. They must function as some form of adaptation to cope with such a complex existence. All katras could serve that purpose.//

//But why something so metaphysical as a katra?//

//The 'why' is best left to philosophers and religious leaders. I am only interested organizing this into something that can allow Jim to function while Aesina is gone. If he is fully awake long enough, the storm in his mind will stress him into brain death.//

After a pause, T’Ra said, //Being asleep does not appear to be helping him. It is only killing him slower.//

//T'Ra, did we not learn about the clearing of unorganized mind channels in school?//

//Yes, but never on this scale. I am not hindered by the immensity of the task, though. A sentient katra gives you greater mental prowess in the human mind.//

//Then we must attempt to use Jim's own energy to create a clear picture he would recognize. It will only be temporary, but will help us navigate better.//

Spock and T'Ra did as they decided. Before they left the primitive area of Kirk's mind, they drew on the occipital and survival energy stored there. Although not ideal, it was the only power they had to organize the images. They then flew back into the higher mind functions, and were again hit with the overwhelming cacophony. Vulcan and daemon used their own mental energy to encompass the endless sea of confusion, and try and use the millions of points to create a single picture.

For a time, the chaos did not respond. In fact, there seemed to be something fighting back within the mind.

//No,// Came a weak mental voice. //Leave me alone. I know you're not her.//

//Jim! It is Spock. Please, I am trying to help you.//

//Spock. I know that name.//

//Yes,// T'Ra said. //We are your friend, and we are going to help you get Aesina back, but first you must let us do this. We need to get a good look at your mind.//

//How…Aesina?//

Both Vulcan and daemon were affected by not only the smallness of the voice, but the quick trust. While it currently served their purpose, they saw how it could easily be misused.

//Yes, it will.// Spock said, and immediately the chaos was encompassed and the power from the primitive mind began organizing the information into a simple image. Spock's energy gave Kirk's mind the power it needed to finish the job.

Spock and T'Ra were soon looking at each other as if standing on a physical plane. The silver daemons flew to Spock's shoulder, and realized the sensations of touch were eerily similar. They found themselves in a seemingly endless desert. There were no sand dunes, nor life forms of any kind, and the sand was so dry there were cracks as far as the eyes could see.

Spock had never seen such a desert. The lands of Vulcan were dry, but arid enough to support life. This land did not even look hospitable to microbes.

"Over there," T'Ra urged. The Vulcan looked in the direction she faced, and saw a lone figure lying in the distance who appeared to not be moving. Spock trotted toward the creature and saw it was indeed human. It was Kirk.

"Jim!" Spock shouted, running faster. He came upon his friend lying face up and naked in the oppressive sun. His skin had been burned beet red, his lips were dry and cracked, his breathing was labored, and his entire form was emaciated.

Spock shirked control and fell to his knees to take the suffering form in his arms. Kirk's eyes were closed, but his next words showed he knew who was with him.

"You have a good...bedside manner, Spock."

Spock fought with all his might to keep himself together. A loss of concentration could be deadly here.

"This is not explained by our previous hypothesis," Spock said, trying in vain to stay afloat. "What would this have to do with a mind which cannot organize itself?"

"That is a question we must answer after we save his life," T'Ra said. "Judging from the image Jim's mind has provided us with, we must first give him some water."

"And shade," Spock completed.

"There will be none here, but there should be some in our own mind."

"What brings you to that conclusion?"

"Because there is an oasis in the direction we came from. That must be the border with our own mind, or at least how Jim sees it."

Spock looked where his daemon had mentioned and saw there were indeed silhouettes of trees. On Earth, where there was plant life, there was water.

"Fascinating," Spock said slowly.

"Come, Captain," Spock whispered to his friend as he scooped him up in his arms and carried him out of his barren mind. It took nanoseconds to cross into the lush greenery. Cool mist emanated from the nearby water source, which Spock soon discovered was a flowing river. Spock knew such a stark climate contrast could not exist on Earth, but it made sense in the environment of their two minds.

"It will be best to start slow," T'Ra said, feeling her parent's instinct to immerse Kirk immediately.

The Vulcan propped Kirk on a rock near the riverbed. He took some on the cool, clear water in his hand and brought it to the captain's lips. Kirk let out a groan of relief.

Spock continued to feed him sips of water and occasionally poured some over Kirk's head and shoulders. He saw the dry, cracked lips were looking more full and pink and the sunburn was fading. This was a good sign, but it would not be enough to sustain Kirk outside of the meld.

"Feels good," Kirk croaked as he started to open his eyes. He pushed himself upward to adjust his position on the rock.

"Do you wish to navigate in the water, Captain?" Spock asked. "You now appear strong enough."

"Well," Kirk said as he looked toward the nearby stream. "I feel like it's just what I need. If I get washed away, I'm sure you'll save me."

"That it correct," Spock said as he helped his friend to his feet.

Kirk took small steps down the bank, allowing the water to flow over his blistered feet. He closed his eyes and smiled at the cooling sensation as he continued deeper. Spock had let him go by the time he got up to his ankles. Once he was up to his thighs, Kirk bent to drink like the thirsty man he was.

As the other man went deeper, Spock noticed color returning to the blonde hair. The sunburn had gone away, his body was no longer deathly thin, and Kirk actually had a smile on his face.

T'Ra joined her parent and they watched the captain swim through the river with contentment. He looked at home and rejuvenated, but the Vulcan knew this could not last. Their minds would have to separate again, but through this vision, Spock knew he had given Kirk the strength to function for the time being. He would not know how this would translate to Kirk's physical form until the meld was completed.

~~~~~~~

Spock broke the meld carefully, but abruptly. He immediately looked at the chronometer to see the meld lasted only five standard minutes.

"Spock?"

The Vulcan looked immediately back to Kirk, whose voice sounded much fuller. His eyes were wide open, the spark of life returned to them. Spock noted, however, it was not to the same level as before.

"Spock. What happened? What..." Kirk's hand then traveled to his heart, where the bond with Aesina had originated. He curled his hand into a fist. The distraught look on his face made it clear he remembered yesterday's events.

"D-did they take her? Did they take Aesina?"

Spock took a deep breath. "Yes. I am sorry, Captain."

Kirk put his head in his hands, but let out no sound. The readings from T'Ra indicated the captain was trying to have strong emotions, but only small ones were forthcoming. There was then trepidation that such a loss was not causing all-encompassing grief. The pain was there, which made Spock want to take the man in his arms and comfort him. Before he could move to do so, the captain looked up to him with a confused and angry expression.

"Spock. What did you do? I remember...I know you...how?"

"I took you in my mind. I let you have some of my mental energy so you could function. Otherwise, you would have died."

Kirk said nothing. He then looked back at toward Spock, but focused on T'Ra with an amused look in his eyes.

"Can't have that, can we?" The captain said with some bitterness.

Spock visibly flinched at the venom in his friend's voice. Kirk lay back down, his face faraway.

//He did not mean what I thought he meant, did he?// Spock asked his daemon. //Did he expect me to let him die?//

//Probably// T'Ra replied. //He is still hard to read. I will say you are likely not his favorite person right now.//

Spock fought the urge to sigh, and went to wake up the sleeping Dr. McCoy.


	7. Knowledge

“It sounds like you had quite a trip,” Kirk said to a waiting Lieutenant Giotto. “You did a great job and brought some fantastic samples back.”

He cringed as he said the words with put-on cheer. Even after three months of practice, it still sounded fake.

"Thank you, Captain," the chief of security said with a smile. Kirk noticed the uncharacteristic fists balled at the officer’s side. It was not from pain, but rather an effort not to pet the German Shepard daemon at his side. Kirk recognized the gesture. He was now used to his human friends trying to ignore their daemons in his presence. Kirk looked to the floor and glanced at the empty space beside him. He could never get used to it, and prayed he never would.

Kirk stepped from behind his desk to shake the Lieutenant’s hand. When Kirk reached out, Giotto instinctively flinched away from the touch. This was not the first time such a thing had happened, but it still hurt.

Giotto looked apologetically at the captain, but said nothing. What could he say? He simply nodded and carefully limped out. The captain did not feel anger at him, but he did want to growl about how nonsensical it was to act in such a way. He knew the desire to rant was merely a habit from a former life, and if he were to do it now, it would have no purpose. Still, the truth remained. It wasn't like he had a disease. He was just...alone.

Kirk was thankful Giotto was the last person he had to see today. The captain never thought he would enjoy desk duty, but the Admiralty were nervous about putting him back on the bridge until they knew he could handle the responsibilities. Kirk thought he had impressed them so far, but he was still a liability on a landing party. He still needed melds at seemingly random intervals.

Speaking of which…

He knew the pangs of loneliness were the first signs. Soon the reality around him would begin to waver, and then his ability to make decisions and access his intellect would suffer.

Kirk pressed the single button on his communicator that called the solution to his problem.

The captain collapsed back into his chair. Reminiscence was not normally part of his regular deterioration back into madness, but he found himself thinking back to the last few months, and how his life had gotten to this point.

On the first day of awareness after he was severed, he wondered how it had been possible to feel somewhat normal without a soul. All he knew was that his mind had the fingerprints of Spock all over it. Seeing the Vulcan sitting by his bed confirmed his suspicions. That day, he needed several more melds, but as the days and weeks went on, he needed fewer and fewer until eventually one in the morning was enough to get him through the day.

During the entire process, all he wanted was to tell Spock to stop and let nature take its course, especially since the Vulcan was looking more and more drained with every meld. However, the 'wounded puppy' looks of his two friends were enough to make him hold his tongue. They kept him from saying what he really thought: if they knew what it was like to have their daemons taken from them, they would know keeping him coherent was a bad idea.

As the days wore on, Kirk became accustomed to this new life. He even managed to convince Admiral Komack to let him inch back toward the captain’s chair. If he were honest with himself, he only agreed to it so he could do something rather than sit around and think about Aesina being gone. It was not an ideal situation. The stares he endured from the crew were bad enough as it was. Having to confront them as their captain was far worse.

Kirk found some relief with McCoy and Spock. They treated him more human than everyone else, which was not saying much. When he interacted with Spock, it was as if their occasional melds did not exist, and they merely were friends, sniping at each other when the opportunity arose. McCoy was no different. His friend had taken him on shore leave shortly after the incident and he had some fun. It felt almost like old times, with the exception of having Spock inject him with mental energy every night. However, Leauna did not speak to him, nor has she since. He could not tell them about the fears he had as he continued his work, and the buildup of tension had been straining his attempts to act normal.

Kirk loved being the captain, and he loved his ship, but more and more, the daily tasks became a burden. The strong desire to travel the universe was replaced by wanting as few people in his office as possible. The lift in his spirits at a newly discovered planet was replaced by an envy of the people who still had their daemons.

He knew the crew saw his change in attitude, but as far as he knew, no one had complained about it. This would not last long, though. People who he once considered friends now looked at him like an enigma, and soon would have no qualms about turning him in should he make a mistake. His futile attempts to appear normal only made his condition more conspicuous. If his impressions were to be trusted, his condition was perceived as a communicable disease. He was becoming a leper in what had once been his home. Even the friendships with McCoy and Spock could not relieve that.

The captain knew he could not go on like this. There would soon come a day when Starfleet would get wind he was not fully competent and give his post to someone else. He would go to a facility where Spock could not get to him and he would be forced to live his remaining days in the cocoon of his own mind.

Just like the Cerebus VI settlers.

Based on the information from the last report, five of them had died. From what he gathered, the little girl with the flowers in her hair was not one of them, but her parents were. His focus on her was not helping matters. He somehow saw little Annalise as a symbol. If she could get her daemon back, all was right with the world. It would be like healing those people in Appalachia who still haunted McCoy.

Such reunions appeared remote, though. They had shared the knowledge of Spock's procedures with Starfleet medics, but no telepath or healer would try similar melds with the other severed people. Despite Spock appearing unscathed, fear for one's own katra outweighed compassion. It only reinforced Kirk's view of how brave Spock was, and how much he cared.

Kirk jumped when the Vulcan finally entered. His vision was already distorting around him, and had to put his face in his hands to stave off the tsunami. Without a word, Spock walked straight over to him and immediately moved the hands out of the way before initiating the meld. The familiar desert came upon them, followed by Kirk being led to Spock's river, where he drank until he had his fill. The connection was broken just as quickly as it had begun, and the captain was coherent once again.

Kirk leaned back, sighing in relief the darkness had been kept at bay for a little longer. No matter how much he wished Spock would just back off and let him go, there was no denying the relief when he was back from the brink.

"I apologize for taking so long, Captain," Spock said, now standing straight with his hands clasped behind his back. "I had to finish some extra tasks on the bridge before I went off duty. I also compiled my findings on Lady D’Lana which might help us understand her intentions. I have asked Dr. McCoy to meet me in my quarters to review them. Are you able to join?"

//It's about time you finished your damn research// Kirk thought. He looked to the daemon on the Vulcan's shoulder and could have sworn he saw T'Ra flinch, as if his words had been audible. T'Ra was only an empath, and Spock could only enter minds by touch, so there was no way they could hear him, unless...

"If you are busy, we can examine the findings another time, Captain," Spock said a little too quickly.

"Oh...no," Kirk replied. "I can go, but is there a reason you're not going to Starfleet with this first?"

"You and Dr. McCoy deserve to know this information before anybody else considering we completed the mission.”

Kirk nodded, although he knew this was not all that necessary. In a former life, he would have commented on Spock making this decision for a more emotional reason, but by now he was getting used to his friend forgoing logic when it came to both him and McCoy. If the captain could bring himself to care, he would be thankful for what the Vulcan had been giving him in the past months.

The twinge of hope was illumined as he followed the Vulcan to meet McCoy. There was always a flicker when they found a lead on the ship. Kirk was fascinated with how the only feelings he was able to have served to enhance his suffering.

They arrived at the dark and warm suite with McCoy already waiting for them. Leauna was sitting at his side, her tail swishing back and forth. The daemon’s posture betrayed McCoy’s weary demeanor.

"How're you feeling, Jim?"

"Fine,” Kirk sighed. He hated that question.

"Gentlemen," Spock said, clearly eager to share his findings. He seated himself at the computer and placed the disk in its proper place. Immediately, a clear photograph came up of a younger Lady D’Lana. Kirk tensed as he saw the face again, remembering her grimy yellow finger's on Aesina's head.

Around the picture were words written in the Xarth language. The universal translator had not yet incorporated Xarth writing, but the format clearly showed the men it was a wanted poster.

"As you know," Spock began. "The telepathy and telekinesis of Lady D’Lana caused great consternation among Starfleet investigators. Xarth citizens were thought to be psi-null, and for the most part they are. I read more about Xarth culture, and I determined they are quite dismissive of certain citizens. It can be compared to Earth India's caste system. The difference is that these citizens are not born into their state, but rather pushed into it. The reasons why range from criminal acts to aggressive personalities. In D’Lana's case, her powers made others fearful of her, and she was cast out to live alone at the age of two, which is the equivalent of age seven in Terran years.

"These citizens are relegated to life outside the cities where they are made to work menial and dangerous jobs. In severe cases, such as D’Lana's, they are forced to live alone as hermits. There is not official Xarth name since these people do not officially exist, so I would say calling them untouchables is appropriate.

"Among these untouchables are criminals, so unlike other planets in the explored section of the galaxy, they are reluctant to release their information on interstellar fugitives. Since Xarth is not yet a member of the Federation, their lists of wanted fugitives are not known to us. Despite this, I did contact Sarek and he obtained this record of our Lady D’Lana. Later in her life she committed crimes to earn her an interstellar fugitive status."

"So she is Xarth," McCoy said, his eyes occasionally glancing toward Kirk. "That would make sense. The only reason they want to join the Federation is because they are running out of natural resources to produce energy. D’Lana must think discovering a new energy source will help get her face off that poster."

"She very well may desire that, Doctor, but such an outcome appears unlikely. She has committed an unforgivable crime within the Federation."

"Hold it a minute," Kirk chimed in. "Why the hell does she have to use people as an energy source? There has to be an easier way."

"This woman is not entirely sane, likely due to her forced isolation."

"Dammit, Spock, don't try to make me feel sorry for her."

"No one is asking that," McCoy said. "What I am more interested in is where these powers come from. That might give us a clue of how to get past them."

"From what I gathered," Spock replied. "It appears her powers are simply a product of chance. While rare, there are random genetic mutations which can cause strong telepaths be born out of psi-null races. D’Lana was one of these. She was the daughter of a scientist who was attempting to improve Xarth's interstellar capabilities. He is the creator of the silver craft, although it was only listed as being used for personal purposes. Some exposure to radioactive energy sources might have been to blame, but there is no way of knowing."

"So just the standard telepath procedures, I guess," Kirk said, staring at his nails. He was no longer trying to hide his melancholy. This report was turning out to be like every other tip and information source they had obtained in the past few months. It promised some way of finding his soul, but amounted to nothing. Spock was clearly doing his best to gather all the information he could, but the captain could not help but think it futile.

"What did she do that was so unforgivable, Spock?" McCoy asked.

"She had grown up as an untouchable, which could likely explain her desire for a companion. Relations among untouchables - sexual or Platonic - are forbidden. She honed her powers in secret for years. She soon became so powerful, she was able to control large groups of minds at once.

“Although strong, she had limits. D’Lana could only control those whose minds were already compromised. In this case, she used a coma ward at one of the Xarth hospitals as a source of her army. Along with other untouchables, their advance almost took over the government. The only reason she did not succeed was because Xarth managed to craft a drug that lessened mental faculties and administered in the form of a dart. It caused her to lose concentration, therefore she was able to be captured and lost control of a vast majority of the rebels. Without the support of their leader, the sentient soldiers either fled or were captured.

"After she spent several months in custody, she gathered enough of her faculties to gain back control of five followers to set her free. She then commandeered one of her father's ships, and disappeared. No one has had a confirmed sighting of her until the incident at Cerebus II."

"At least by Federation people," McCoy said. "She must have had some contact with Romulans or Klingons, judging by the cloaking device."

"How she obtained one a mystery," Spock continued. "But this is irrelevant. In order to continue hiding in her ship, D’Lana must obtain energy. Based on the plans I found, there is only one method of fueling the engines, which is a mineral found only on Xarth they call, appropriately enough, Xarthonium. However, the mineral is nearly gone because of over mining. The only other way to divert power to the engines is to transmit energy of the purest form. Electricity would be one way, but there is little lightning on Xarth, so there would have been no understanding as to how electricity is collected."

"There are no daemons on Xarth, either," Kirk said.

"As I have said, Captain, I cannot thoroughly explain Lady D’Lana's thought processes, particularly since she is not in her right mind. I can only speculate. Sources from Xarth do confirm she was obsessed with saving her planet. She sees her acts as admirable, and once she is focused on a solution, she is unlikely to stray from it, despite evidence presented to her. There is also a general association between the Federation and humans. The connection might make this method of energy collection an attractive option.

"Based on the amount of energy she obtained from the planet, she will need to obtain more in approximately two months, eleven days, two hours, and forty-six minutes. Any time between then and now, she should be seeking large concentrations of humans."

"Which means they should become visible," McCoy said, with some lift in his voice.

"Exactly, Doctor."

"Is all the information you shared with us on here?"

Spock nodded.

"Then we should send it to Starfleet immediately so all human colonies and Starbases can be on the alert. We will grab them before they have a chance to do this to anyone else, and we should get your daemon back, Jim."

The captain did his best to mirror the enthusiasm by smiling. Even if he got Aesina back, there was still no way to put them back together. The only consolation was that her kidnappers could be brought to justice. Anticipation welled up when he thought of doing unspeakable things to the yellow bitch who stole his girl and tried to kill his friends. The chance to do so almost made life worth living.

He could see it now, having that thin neck under his throat. The psychic powers trying to paralyze him in vain. Watching the smugness squeeze out of her as she gasped for breath.

In his reverie, his eyes drifted to T'Ra, who was now looking at him with fear. Did she know what he was thinking? Why did the idea bother him so much?

Kirk chided himself for his stupidity. He knew why. He never would have had such violent thoughts before he lost Aesina. This was not the first time inhuman ideas came to him, but he had never let them fester and grow before. Under the teresh'ka's scrutiny, he was reminded of the continued humanity of his friends, and that he used to share their compassion and respect for life. What was he turning into?

His friends were selfless to a fault. Even as he took and took, they still gave. Spock gave in mental energy, and McCoy gave his shoulder and his time. He remembered being McCoy's confidante, but now all he did was participate in meaningless activities. Sure, it helped him be less lonely, but what did it do for the doctor?

Spock was even worse. What had Kirk given back to him? Could he give back anything? How long would they go on like this?

"Jim?" McCoy asked his friend, starting to notice his distress. "We'll find her, and we'll get you back together. We'll find a way."

"You sound so sure of yourself, Bones," Kirk said, looking at the floor. "It's not so easy to be optimistic when you've been sliced in two."

"I know," McCoy said while reaching out a hand to touch his shoulder. Leauna joined her human by touching her nose to Kirk’s thigh. Daemons never touched other bodies as a rule except in extremely intimate situations, so the captain was shocked at the touch. Kirk moved away, tired of all the compassion he was not able to return.

"What is troubling you, Jim?" Spock asked. Now he was wearing the same expression as T'Ra. Kirk felt a clench in his heart. He could not answer. He could not burden this man any more. He could not burden either of them anymore.

"Thanks for the info, Spock, but I just want to be alone right now."

Without a look back, Kirk left Spock’s quarters, looking at the floor so he could not see the pitied looks of his crew.

~~~~~~~~

McCoy rubbed his face, hoping to get some of the fatigue out of his eyes. These past few months had been hellish. Their mission had continued as it always had, but without the solid object of their captain leading the way forward.

He was finally starting to distinguish the roles Spock and Kirk played in his life. Both fulfilled his needs in different ways, but were equally important. Now one half of that was gone, and was suffering before his eyes.

"He looks bad," McCoy said to Leauna as they made it to their cabin. Spock quickly asked him to leave after Kirk ran off. He had desperately wanted to have a long overdue follow-up with Spock on how his feelings for Kirk were affected by the melds, but there was too much concern for the man in the middle to even focus on such things.

"He's getting worse," Leauna replied. "You'd think with needing less melds, he'd be getting better."

"He's 'adjusting,'" McCoy said with the accompanying fingers. "He's getting used to not having Aesina. His body is settling into its new life."

"And that life sucks."

"Bingo."

The pair collapsed onto the bed. Leauna jumped up to snuggle into McCoy’s side.

"I don't know what I would do if I lost you." McCoy whispered as he stroked his daemon tenderly.

Leauna laid her chin on his shoulder. "I'm not going anywhere, Len."

"That's what Aesina said."

McCoy's voice broke as he said her name. It felt like a betrayal, saying the name of the creature he had failed so miserably.

"Stop blaming yourself," Leauna said. "It will do no good."

"We should have found something by now. There should have been some kind of sign of those...monsters."

"Spock's report will help us find them."

"And meanwhile, Jim dies inside over and over. Every day he looks physically healthy, but mentally he's slipping away."

"Is it the result of not having a daemon, or is Jim just...giving up?"

McCoy closed his eyes. "I don't know. I wish I did. I'm afraid to ask. He seems to be withdrawing - spending more time alone."

Every time he saw Jim enter his cabin, it was as if he were going to the gas chamber. McCoy could not imagine such desolation. The doctor had offered many times for them to possibly share a cabin, but was always turned down.

"And don't forget Spock. Who knows what those melds are doing to him?"

"I'm not sure what else to do. The melds are the only thing keeping Jim together."

Leauna nibbled at a wrinkle in McCoy's tunic while he stared at the ceiling. His body sunk into the bed as his being was consumed by thoughts and feelings about his two friends, which later turned into thoughts and feelings about Jocelyn – and the hell she remained in.

He would never forget the sincere pleading in court – the pleading from his ex-wife to exercise her “religious right” to cut his daughter’s daemon away. Her lawyer begged her not to, but she had stupidly decided to claim she was being discriminated against for not being allowed to butcher a 7 year-old girl. The judge had a look on his face that suggested he could not believe what he was hearing, which told McCoy his petition was guaranteed. This assuredness did not improve his mood, though. How a woman who had been so level-headed could be spouting such nonsense with a straight face made McCoy fearful.

As it always did, the memory was followed by another about a late-night call from his screaming little girl.

“Daddy! Daddy, please help! Mommy’s sick! Daddy!”

McCoy rushed out to the house to find Jocelyn’s parents in the front yard already there and screaming at the dead-eyed elders of the doomsday cult Joss had found herself in. Joanna ran into his arms and sobbed while her daemon changed into a ladybug in order to hide in Leauna’s short fur. Joanna said through her sobs that Joss did not even know who she was, and that she looked like a ghost.

It was then that McCoy saw her being led out of the house by another one of the cultists. The black-footed ferret daemon was at her heels, but he was practically dragging himself to catch up.

McCoy closed his eyes and shook away the image. He grabbed the vid-phone and dialed up his most utilized number.

Within seconds, the groggy face of his teenage daughter appeared on the screen.

“Dad?” Joanna said with annoyance. “Why the hell are you calling me this late?”

“Sorry, hon.” McCoy said, unable to keep the croak out of his voice. “I should have checked the time on Starbase 16. I just…wanted to see you.”

Joanna looked like she wanted to say more, but pursed her lip in a way that indicated she was holding back. Her bobcat daemon appeared in the corner of the screen resting his chin on the bed.

“How’s the captain?”

McCoy made a humorless laugh. “Not good, hon.”

“I mean, I can always come back to the ship if you need me. No one will miss me…”

“No, no. We talked about this. You couldn’t stay on the Enterprise and go to school.”

“I can always put it off…”

“I said no!” McCoy immediately regretted the harsh tone. He loved having Joanna on the ship with him for the first year of their mission, but once she got into the exclusive Daemon Studies program on Starbase 16 – the only one of its kind – he knew they would have to separate. Considering the dangers they had faced since she left, he wanted her as far away from him as possible.

“Sorry,” Leauna said.

Joanna smiled through the limited light. “The Cerebus II colonists are here.”

“I know. You told me.”

“Yeah, but they are working on them and getting some good results. There’s a Vulcan here named T’Remberale, she is really good at manipulating the daemon energy.”

“Honey, you know five of them are dead already. There’s progress, but it’s not going to help your Uncle Jim…or your mom.”

McCoy saw Joanna’s eyes glisten, but she didn’t cry. She must have gotten that stolid expression from her new Vulcan friend.

“You’re going to find a cure, honey,” McCoy was sure to say. “And you’re going to help a lot of people. Just not right now.”

Joanna wiped her eyes with her hand. “You sound like you’ve given up on him. He wouldn’t do the same with you.”

McCoy had not given up, although there was a part of him that knew he would have to get used to seeing Jim without the familiar brown monkey

~~~~~~~~

Even after finishing his last bottle of Romulan ale, Kirk could not find rest. No amount of drinking could make him forget. Every night, he dreaded returning to his room, where he would hear nothing but the sound of his own breath. It never got easier. In the past week, all he wanted to do was go to one of his friends' rooms and ask to sleep on the floor. He never did it, though, thinking it would show how broken he was.

The friend he most wanted to go to was Spock, although he was unsure why. The warmth of this cabin sounded very appealing. His cabin felt cold and empty, and whenever he turned off the lights, he saw visions of an oppressive purple guillotine over his head.

As the light continued to keep him awake, he thought about what it would be like when he finally lost everything he treasured about himself. If these psychopathic tendencies were to be nursed, then he could possibly lose the relationships he treasured so much. What next? Would he enjoy watching other people suffer? Would he enjoy the company of others at all?

What would Aesina say if she saw him getting a hard-on at choking the life out of someone?

Kirk tried to banish the name from his mind, but it was too late. Memories of her warm body next to his on the bed rushed back. He remembered how she weaved between his legs while he shaved and smoothed out the wrinkles on his dress uniform. He remembered having to pick pieces of alien gravel from her fur and watching her stagger when he had too much to drink. He remembered her licking his wounds when he got beat up in school, or consoling him when Frank called him horrible names. She would not speak, just join in his sorrow, because they were one, and had shared a destiny.

No one would share his destiny again.

Jim could not take the isolation anymore. He had to get out. Clad in his pajamas, he quickly left his room and found himself at the door to Spock's cabin. Suddenly, the determination left him, and he could not bring himself to ring the bell. Thankfully, he did not have to. Spock opened the door, clad in black meditation robes. T'Ra was perched on the nearby bed.

"Captain," Spock said. The word seemed to carry more weight, in that it contained all the emotion the Vulcan refused to show. Spock's caring was not as tangible outside of the melds, but now it seemed to permeate. Rather than grow Kirk’s guilt, it beckoned him forward.

"Can I...stay with you tonight?" The captain asked before he changed his mind.

Spock nodded and allowed Kirk to enter.


	8. Despair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since time got away from me and I haven't posted in a while, I decided to post two chapters in one day. 
> 
> WARNING: There are themes of suicide in this chapter.

The king of Xarth was a tall and muscular man, whose only indication of age was the black streaks in his pure white hair. His demeanor was downtrodden, betraying the weakness he felt inside. Every day, he as more helpless as his people continued to suffer from a crisis all too evident in his once elegant throne room.

His billowing silken robe flowed over the sides of the throne, which had been constructed in a way to allow the copious light to reflect and create a shine. Light had been revered on Xarth before there was written history, and that love was showcased in the reflective properties of their architecture. The large hall had no windows. None were needed when it was built. Large electric lights illuminated the glittering surfaces more than their sun ever could. Now, the only illumination came from large candle sticks along the once glittering runner. The light barely reached the ceiling, where gargantuan electric chandeliers hung unused. Chandeliers whose light once made this room the most bright and beautiful place to spend his days.

King Achban looked to the large timekeeper on the wall with trepidation. The time was coming near when he would be made to take a call from his last great enemy, Lady D’Lana. He rarely showed fear in front of his court, but when he received word their most wanted fugitive had contacted them, he let his eyes go wide and face pale. He hoped it was for an offer of surrender, but he could not fathom such a thing happening. Everyone in his cabinet urged him to refuse correspondence with her, but he was intrigued by her claim of discovering energy sources which could replace Xarthonium.

The desperation for new energy was what had driven his talks with the Federation, but it was not an ideal situation. Based on the testimonies from other worlds, there was a strong possibility they would be made to have elections and include the exiled people. The negotiators insisted there would be no interference with their culture, but they then turned around and said the humane removal of citizens had to stop if they wanted to join. His desperation caused his arguments to be more subdued, but he was concerned about what an influx of unworthy citizens would bring. Achban refused to believe the Federation planets were as benevolent as they claimed to be. How else would they have so little crime? It made no sense.

He stood straight when two servants brought in the comm unit. Communication was one of the few items they allotted for energy use, so the device lit up blue as the transmission came from their switchboard operator. Within seconds, the lithe form of D’Lana flashed into view. There was a strange brown animal beside her that must have been from another world. Achban found it odd D’Lana would include new pets in holo calls.

"Greetings, uncle," she said in the seductive voice.

"Do not call me that," Achban growled. "Our family was rid of you long ago. Now, I suggest getting on with your message. What makes you want to call after all this time?"

The flinch in his enemy made him almost regret his tone. He steeled himself with the memories of the havoc she created on their planet only a few short years ago.

"Your Highness," she said with mock respect. "I have a proposal for you. From the darkness on your end I can see you are still in the midst of an energy crisis. Well, despite what you might think, I still care about my home world. I have been combing the universe for sources which would be both practical and compatible with our infrastructure, and I believe I have found one. In fact, it is what is running our ship right now."

Despite himself, Achban felt a glimmer of hope. "What is this source?"

"From my travels in the Federation colonies, I learned the most potent source of energy ever discovered lies within the bond between humans and beings they claim are their dragoon. These beings are called..."

"I am aware of what a daemon is," Achban said, anticipating what was coming next.

"Of course. Well, Dr. Alms and I have discovered a way to collect that energy and harness it."

"You mean the Dr. Alms you kidnapped from his bed in the hospital? You have forced him to do your dirty work?"

"It is not dirty work, Your Highness. It will allow us to survive without interference from the Federation."

The king shot to his feet and pointed at his antagonist. "It's you, isn't it? There was a bulletin over the Federation wire about a woman who had severed half of a human colony along with a famous Starfleet captain who came to help. Do you realize what a crime you have committed? Daemons are of the highest esteem to human beings."

"The humans are fools. It was because of them I have been able to survive in the ship for months without a single refuel. There is no reason they cannot live without a daemon. If I had only been allowed to spend more time with them, I would have proved it. Look beside me. This is Bathsheba, and she belonged to the captain you mentioned. Now she is mine."

Achban did indeed look at the creature, and noticed it was clearly different than a simple animal. "What of the human?"

"His ship took him away. Based on the Federation's knowledge of what we have done, his first officer must have survived."

"Survived? You tried to have him killed? How can you expect me to agree with taking this energy source based on what you have done to obtain it? Obviously you know this is wrong."

"The only moral crime here would be to let our culture die out," D’Lana replied as she stroked the head of the daemon. "I know your fears about the Federation, Uncle. I share them. I can prove to you the collection of this energy will not harm humans."

"It does not matter. No human would agree to such a procedure."

"If I showed you how the captain is faring, I'm sure you would change your mind. I have been following Federation news, and he is back at his post on the Enterprise."

Achban frowned. "Too many of the humans you severed died. I do not know how the doctor is functioning so well, but that is beside the point. I will not accept this."

D’Lana frowned, but then formed a devious smile. "Allow me to bring this to the people."

"No! Xarth are not butchers. They will never agree to your plans, no matter how desperate we are."

"You do realize I was not asking permission, Your Highness. I was simply giving you advice. I will fetch the captain. I will show your subjects - including the exiled - the procedure does no harm. I will then see what they think about my proposal."

Achban was cut off by the sudden disappearance of the picture. A tightness formed in his stomach over his estranged niece's words.

His people were desperate, and many were against Federation involvement. All it would take is the right words to stir them into a frenzy. The king was not sure if his people were willing to victimize one of the dominant races of the galaxy, but he did not want to find out. As much as he wanted energy for his planet, he also knew what a daemon was to a human. He was no less willing to trifle with that as to rip out the Dragoon, the soul that existed inside all Xarth people.

//Perhaps having her Dragoon removed was not wise…//

“You know why we did it!” Achban shouted, his voice echoing down the hall. “I will not question our traditions. They are all we have left.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Kirk woke to sound of the fire pot crackling behind the thin divider. Spock was meditating, as he did every morning. Also, like every morning, the silent routine pushed Kirk out of a sound sleep.

When he found himself in the bed, Kirk realized the stubborn Vulcan moved him off the floor again. There would be no convincing his first officer to cut the martyrdom act, no matter how endearing it was. Kirk rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and tiptoed to the dresser to get his clothes. After staying in Spock's quarters for four straight nights, this was the first time he thought to bring a change of clothing.

He checked the chronometer and sighed at the ungodly hour. Sleeping in Spock's quarters took much of the dread away from off-duty time, but there was the added annoyance of waking up at the crack of dawn with his highly disciplined first officer.

While comforting, this adult slumber party made the niggling suspicions in the back of his head far greater. Kirk could swear Spock could tell what he was thinking. On the reverse, Kirk began to finish the Vulcan’s sentences more often. Not to mention the fearful looks Spock and T'Ra gave him when he caught himself slipping into dangerous thinking.

Kirk had not given much thought to the long term effects of the melds, but he hypothesized there might be some form of connection forming between him and the Vulcan. Feeling so at home in Spock's quarters - in Spock's presence - scared him. He never felt this drawn to anyone before. He tried to find out more about Vulcan telepathy from the data banks and from Dr. M'Benga, but the secrecy of Spock's people proved strong.

The captain got ready as silently and quickly as he could before sneaking out. There was barely anyone in the hallway this time of morning, and for that he was thankful.

When he walked into Sickbay to meet with McCoy, but was met with Dr. M'Benga instead.- Selena – the doctor’s ocelot daemon – backed up when Kirk entered.

"Good morning, Captain," M’Benga said. "I knew you would be early, but not this early."

"I didn't expect you to be here at all," Kirk replied, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. "What do you need?"

"I was actually looking for Dr. McCoy, but I should probably talk to you about this directly."

“About what?"

"Your daemon problem," M'Benga said without mirth. He seemed to be one of the few people who did not play along with Kirk's act. "I decided to contact one of my colleagues from the New Vulcan Science Academy who would be amenable to talking with me. Since you have been melding so much with Mr. Spock and have been sharing a room with him..."

"How did you know about that?" Kirk asked, blushing.

"You're not as inconspicuous as you think you are, Captain. I honestly would not be embarrassed about it. It is understandable in your situation. However, I felt you should know how complicated your situation is, especially with more proximity to Spock."

Kirk ran his fingers through his hair and steeled himself for what was coming. He already had a feeling what he was about to hear.

~~~~~~~~~

As soon as he got off shift, Kirk went back to his own cabin for the first time in days. He went right to the liquor cabinet and pulled out the Andorian Vodka he kept only for special occasions. He admitted he had drank more than usual since he was severed, but never had he gotten this deep into his stash.

What M'Benga had told him was nothing he did not expect, but nonetheless made his situation more real. The only reason Kirk would have required fewer melds was because a telepathic link was forming between him and Spock, which was acting as a substitute to his link with Aesina. The link became stronger the more melds they had.

What M'Benga said next was the reason Kirk had broken out the good liquor. For Vulcans, telepathic links were very precious, and not given lightly. Any mind melds that take place involve powerful shielding to prevent any such connection. There are only two scenarios where a connection is allowed: parent-child relationships, and relationships between married couples. The first was naturally occurring, but the second was a conscious choice. Once a strong link was established, there was virtually no chance of another being formed, save for a broken link through death or plak-tow.

In other words, if Kirk allowed this link to continue, he would be preventing Spock from ever forming a romantic relationship with another person. Since a large part of Vulcan mating included a mind component, he would essentially be castrating Spock, making it impossible for him to find a wife to help rebuild the Vulcan race. Even worse, he might be unable to mate for his first Pon Farr. Without a mate, Spock would die.

The third shot did not clear his thoughts, nor his guilt. Kirk had ruminated all day about this connection. Spock had been loosening up to the point he now knew he cared, but not enough to have a permanent telepathic link. Spock was so busy playing martyr that he did not even realize what he was doing. If he did, he might insist the sacrifice was necessary.

"It's not necessary," Kirk said to the empty bottle of liquor. "I'm not worth giving up your happiness."

Waves of guilt and hopelessness hit Kirk one after another. He knew he needed to tell Spock to stop the melds and sever the link, but the idea of returning into the abyss made him shiver. He could not go back, and he could not continue like this.

Kirk threw the empty bottle in the recycler and stomped into the bathroom. He felt fatigue, which could be associated with depression. He had been clinically depressed before he had access to the good drugs the Academy provided, but no medication could help him now.

He took of his shirt to prepare for a shower and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Kirk stopped, looking on the reflected image, and thinking how he would feel if he and Spock's places were reversed.

The Vulcan may have been annoying and cold at times, but Kirk knew how attractive and appealing he was. Once Spock put his mind to it, he could have any girl he wanted. He proved it by dating Uhura for so long. Instead, he was about to be stuck with a mentally ill, pale, skinny male whose body was a flabby shell of its former self. As Kirk’s humanity slipped away, so would Spock's chances at a full life. Spock might not show compassion in the same way humans did, but he had a good heart. What would it be like for him sharing thoughts and feelings with an emotional cripple?

Kirk groaned and put his head in his hands. His simple mind wanted continue using Spock without a care. He knew those inclinations would only get stronger with time. He had to act now while he still had an ounce of altruism. The only thing stopping him was fear of the darkness - of the truly empty life which awaited without the melds.

"You goddamn Vulcan bastard," Kirk growled. "Why didn't you just let me die before all this? I would have been with Aesina already if you'd have just let me go!"

Kirk was stuck, and there was only one option. Before he could change his mind, he dove into his bathroom cabinet and dug out the orange bottle of sleeping pills he kept handy. He stared at the half-full bottle, and gave a genuine smile.

"I'll just go to sleep. Then you'll be free. We both will be."

The captain was not sure who he was talking to - Spock or Aesina. Either way, this was a win-win situation. Somehow, he was sure he was going to see his daemon again. Even if he did not, at least he would be out of the clutches of that space bitch.

Too bad he would not see the look on D’Lana's face when her new pet was taken from her.

Kirk slid to the floor and poured the contents of the bottle into his hand. He had fifteen pills, enough to do the job along with the alcohol in his system. He got a pang of hesitation from deep inside, feeling he should at least see where Spock's new lead went or if there was another way to continue the melds and avoid a permanent bond. Maybe his situation would lead to new medical advances that could help people like him.

His mind soon veered into the negative, where the possibility did not happen. Kirk saw an image of Spock sitting by while he continued to leach off his life force until the Vulcan was an emaciated shell. He saw an alternative where Spock met a beautiful woman and broke off all ties, leaving him in the dark for all time. He saw a world where he killed a crew member while laughing.

"It's better this way," he said, thinking of all that could be saved by this simple act. "I just wish you could have remembered me the way I was. It may not have been much, but it was better than this."

Kirk closed his eyes as he poured the pills into his mouth, swallowed, and waited for his living nightmare to be over.

"I'm sorry...I couldn't keep my promise," Kirk croaked, seeing the beautiful Aesina's face in his mind..

Soon, another image joined her. An image he did not expect.

"I'm sorry, Spock," he said as a tear rolled down his cheek. "I wish...I was good enough...for you."


	9. Rescue

"He knows," T'Ra said once she and her parent walked into their quarters after their shift.

"I am aware of this," Spock said, slumping into the chair at his desk. He was not going to bother meditating tonight. "I was unaware he was cognizant of the changes in his awareness of me."

"In other words, we were in denial...again. While we hoped a bond would not form, our love for the captain made it inevitable."

Spock nodded. "We should have told him this would happen."

"Yes, we should have, but we did not. There is no way to change what has passed. We must now focus on how we can use this link to help him regain semblance of self."

Spock closed his eyes, again visualizing the look on the captain's face last night as he was lifted off the floor and placed on his bunk. It was as haunted as it had been the night he left Cerebus II. Spock felt love blossom anew when he allowed himself such intimate moments with Kirk. He always envisioned encircling him in his arms as he told him how precious he was to him. How his efforts to keep him alive were not a burden, but a privilege. Anything to keep his beauty in the mortal plane was worth it. He wanted to banish the feelings of worthlessness, and make him understand how he had to stay alive, had to keep hoping.

Spock always banished these desires, and readily admitted they were out of fear. He had been fearful lately that he was taking advantage of Kirk in his weakened state, and that any declarations of love might unfairly influence him. If he were to have a relationship with he Captain, there had to be equality between them. That being said, what they were doing now could not be sustained much longer. Kirk's aura was barely hanging on to life. The only long term solution was a permanent bond. This was the only way significant mental processes could be shared on a consistent basis, and Kirk's sentience could be sustained.

There was a problem: Spock knew Kirk would never consent to such a thing, particularly now when he knew what a Vulcan bond entailed. Spock knew his friend had grown to resent the melds that kept him sane, almost as much as he resented the treatment by other crew members.

One positive aspect of his situation was his better relationship with McCoy. McCoy was the one being who knew his desires. Contrary to being his usual self, McCoy was understanding, and sympathized with him. They had leaned on each other in ways they never had before, and Spock found it much easier to maintain his composure while on duty. The downside was he was feeling less connection to his Vulcan side, the side of his he thought he had truly embraced. On top of every other emotion, Spock now felt guilt for not carrying on the dying ways of Surak.

"It's up to you what you want to portray, Spock," McCoy had said one night as he was teaching Spock a card game in the rec room. "I know your Vulcan self is important to you, but it's your human side that's keeping Jim alive."

Spock had agreed, but was starting to realize Jim was now more precious to him than his Vulcan side. He would give it all up to keep this man alive and happy. The thought scared him more than any other emotional revelation he had recently. It scared him so much he could not speak it aloud, even to McCoy.

As Spock excogitated, he started to feel a tug on the bond. It was familiar - usually when Kirk was in despair he unconsciously sought the closest bond he could find. Spock tentatively eased toward Kirk's consciousness to gauge how he should intervene, and if Spock needed to give him some additional energy through their weak bond.

The Vulcan sensed the other man was in his cabin, in the bathroom.

"We have to get to him!" T'Ra shouted, flying to his shoulder. Spock was confused, but once his daemon's readings reached his mind, alarm coursed through him.

Kirk was dying.

Not caring about decorum, Spock walked into the corridor as quickly as he could without breaking into a run. Once he reached his destination, he thanked anyone listening that the door was not locked.

"Captain?" he shouted, frantically scanning the quarters. The bathroom door was wide open, revealing his shirtless friend sitting against the wall with an empty orange bottle lying by his side.

"Jim!" Spock shouted, running to his side. The Vulcan slapped Kirk's face to get him to open his eyes, while T'Ra flew to retrieve the emergency poison kit from a sealed medical chest. She used her talons to punch in the override, shaking the whole time.

Spock let out a sigh of relief when he heard the captain groan and felt his weak breath against his face. He was hanging on, but barely.

"Should we call sickbay?" T'Ra asked, as she dropped the kit at Spock's side.

"Not unless we must," Spock said as he took a deep breath and pulled out the ipecac hypo. "A suicide attempt will only confirm what Starfleet fears. He will be transferred where we cannot give him any help."

"But maybe it is what he needs. Have our melds truly improved anything?"

Spock ignored the question and pushed the hypo into Kirk’s arm. He dragged the limp body to the toilet bowl, and after a beat, Kirk emptied his stomach. Spock let out a breath when he saw solid remnants of the sleeping pills in the bile. T'Ra handed him the stimulant hypo which he quickly administered so Kirk did not slip into a coma. He then gave a detox hypo, so any unwanted poison could be sweated out.

Kirk continued to vomit for about five minutes, and each time, more pill fragments appeared. T'Ra retrieved a hand towel and ran water in the sink. Spock took the cloth and dabbed Kirk's forehead and wiped away the automatic tears as he continued to purge.

"He did not think this through," T'Ra whispered. "Thankfully."

"It is not Jim's nature to want to take his own life," Spock said just as softly.

When Spock was convinced Kirk was finished, he carefully maneuvered the younger man backward so he was sitting against the wall. T'Ra flew from the sink to his side, the air from her wings pushing the empty medicine bottle underneath the vanity.

"Jim!" Spock shouted as he shook the man in question. He tried to suppress the anger which had replaced his fear, although what he was angry at was a mystery to him.

//After what we have been doing to keep him alive, he was close to throwing it all away// T'Ra clarified. //He preferred to die than be bonded with us.//

Spock felt a heavy weight in his stomach. He realized for the first time he had been dismissive of Jim's feelings. While he did not want to obligate Kirk to return his love, both he and McCoy had been pushing him into a half life he might not have wanted. For what reason? For his own good? For their own good? Spock had never cursed his recent emotional slip as much as he had now. He should have looked at the problem from all angles and not for his own selfish motives.

//If you truly want to be logical right now, the only solution is to not assume our actions are to blame// T'Ra told her parent.

The silent conversation was stopped when Kirk stirred and opened his eyes. They would find out soon enough if their fears were valid.

~~~~~~~~~

//So there is life after death// Kirk thought to himself as he woke. //Why does it smell like puke?//

When his muddled brain began to clear, and the familiar voice frantically calling his name, he realized he had been unsuccessful.

//Goddammit// Kirk internally growled. //I didn't think about the fucking link. Damn it all to hell.//

"G'tuff!" Kirk shouted as he weakly pushed Spock away from him. He spotted the discarded hypos on the floor and took stock of his body. The queasiness from the ipecac lingered, and the stimulant was just starting to sharpen his senses. Spock had done everything he would have done if their situations were reversed. Damn him.

He was still in the hell that was his life. Aesina was in alien arms. He was half a man. Barely human. A hair's breadth away from tying an able-bodied male to his decaying carcass forevermore. Did Spock not know what he was doing to himself? Did his blind devotion to vast moral principles cloud his judgment that much?

"Captain," Spock said. He looked lost, as if he were unsure of what to say. "Are you...?"

"I just tried to fucking kill myself, Spock!" Kirk shouted, his anger enhanced by the stimulant. It was nice to feel something so deeply, although it felt basal and uncomplicated. "No, I'm not fucking okay! I would have been fucking okay if you had just let me die!"

Spock flinched as if stung. T'Ra mirrored the action. Kirk felt a sick satisfaction in the unemotional Vulcan's plight. He was finally being honest. No more masks or pretending to keep his friends happy. He had had enough.

"Why?" The Vulcan asked, sounding unbelievably small and frightened. Kirk could not conjure up any sympathy. In fact, a genuine grin spread across his face for the first time in months.

"Well, I guess it takes me swallowing a bottle of sleeping pills for the Enterprise's walking computer to show he's not invincible."

A shadow of anger appeared in Spock's face. "Do not..."

"Do not what, Spock? Do not tell you how fucking miserable I am? You're not blind. You see it. Bones sees it. Yet you keep insisting that it’s all gonna be okay. Well, it's not. I've accepted it. I'm finished. I have no daemon. I'm not human anymore. I'm a washed up, old hick who's lost everything that made him somebody. I can't be a captain. I can't be a friend. I sure as hell can't be a lover. Even if I do get Aesina back, will she even recognize me? Will she want my sick self back? She might prefer to stay with that D’Lana woman."

"Jim," T'Ra trembled.

Kirk barely heard her. "It's not like I was much to begin with. Sure I’m a captain, but I didn’t earn it. I didn’t work my way up in the ranks. It fell in my lap after everyone else fucking died! I know the crew talks about it."

Kirk's shouting was shaking the walls by now, yet Spock had regained a measure of control. But the captain knew the Vulcan well enough to know when he was affected. Kirk knew what would truly hurt. He started crawling toward the other man.

"Is this what you want, Spock? Is this what you want to be bonded to for all eternity?"

"Jim," Spock pleaded, trying to distance himself for the advancing Kirk. Before he could pull himself to his feet, Kirk pinned Spock to the floor. Vulcan strength could have easily shoved him off. The lack of resistance made Kirk even more elated.

"C'mon, Spock. Look me in the eye and tell me this is the face you want to stare at forever."

Kirk could feel the heat of Spock's groin against his own as he tightened the grip on his wrists. A tingling in his own groin welcomed a new surge of feeling. Spock's continued silence was enough to turn that feeling into anger..

"Captain," T'Ra shouted, flapping her wings. "Stop!"

Kirk ignored her, his eyes focused on the alien face beneath him. Spock was breathing heavily, his bottom lip trembling.

"You sure you want this?" said Kirk in a guttural growl. He continued to thrust as both their cocks started swelling. "Are you sure this is what you want? Forever?"

Spock was clearly fighting to maintain composure, but his erect penis gave him away. Kirk did not know if this confirmed or denied whatever he was trying to prove, and frankly he did not care. He wanted Spock to suffer. He wanted the Vulcan to understand, so maybe he would be let go.

Kirk breathed hard as he became more frantic. "Answer me! Is this what you want?"

Kirk stopped short when he was quickly flipped on his back. The wind was knocked out of him as he hit the cold floor, and found the dark eyes of Spock staring down at him. For a second, Kirk feared he had awakened the wild warrior within, but when T'Ra perched on Spock's shoulder and gave a similar look, he knew the Spock he was looking at was completely human.

"More. Than. Anything." Spock said in barely a whisper.

The heavy passion drained from Kirk as he focused on the faces before him. The light in the bathroom reflected off the Vulcan's cheek, and he finally realized there were tears on his face. He had driven the impenetrable man to tears...and enjoyed it.

Kirk did not know what would come of his actions. The satisfaction at having broken his tormentor had not come. He no longer felt like a succubus. He had now given, but instead of kindness he gave pain. Worse, he had apparently used Spock's hidden feelings against him before he even knew they existed. Spock wanted to be with him more than anything. Spock wanted to be with him. Spock wanted him. Judging from the look in the Vulcan's eyes, Kirk's misery had not changed that.

Within the pit of his stomach, Kirk’s emotions emerged from a long stasis. They festered and spread throughout his bloodstream, fighting against the irrational anger and despair. The captain felt his lip tremble, and wetness brim in the corners of his eyes. He knew what this was. Contrition, but not the kind he had been ruminating on for weeks. Then he had been mourning for what had been. Now, he was sorry. Really, truly sorry...because he had hurt someone he loved.

Spock had moved off him by now and was sitting up. Kirk barely felt the strong arms lift him and take him out of the bathroom. It was only when his body touched the soft bed did he realize what the Vulcan had done, and what tenderness it took to do such a thing. It was enough to push Kirk over the edge. He turned his face into the pillow and sobbed.

Kirk had not cried like this in years. His wails unleashed every feeling that had been castrated up until this moment. He missed Aesina. He missed goading McCoy. He missed caring for his crew. He missed the thrill of being alive in a time he could traverse the galaxy. He missed his mother. He missed the father he never met. He wanted his life back. For the first time, he was grieving for what he had lost, both in the past and the present. The crushing weight of it all had finally driven him to this point. The only comfort he took was that he at last felt human again.

Before he realized it, his head was in a lap, specifically Spock's. Long fingers slid through his hair and lightly stroked his scalp. He wanted so badly to refuse the loving touch he did not deserve, but the comfort was unmistakable.

It felt like hours before Kirk calmed down enough to open his eyes and clear his throat. A massive weight had been lifted, but the same regret and dejection still existed. Kirk did not know what had happened to him when Spock saved his life. What he did know was that all he had experienced in the past months had felt like he was on the outside looking into another man's life. Now, he was right in the middle of it. At the time, he did not think there was anything worse than what he was going through. He was wrong.

"Jim, please tell me what you are thinking."

Kirk croaked, "You don't want to know."

"Your presumption is incorrect," Spock said without hesitation.

"Do not hide yourself from us, Jim," T'Ra added.

"I wish I were dead," the captain said in a congested voice.

Spock gently took Kirk by the shoulders and leaned him against the headboard. The Vulcan sat cross-legged directly across from him and looked him in the eye.

"Talk to me, Jim. Please."

"Don't you already know?"

"As you have surmised, we have a weak telepathic link due to frequent mind melds. We do not, however, have a bond, nor do we ever breach your privacy. While T'Ra and I are attuned to you, we do not violate your mind."

Kirk smiled. "I guess I should have thought better of you, huh?"

"It would have been illogical to believe I would be deceitful now after years of showing honest behavior, but I understand your trepidation."

"It's funny how you’re talking about logic right after you ask me how I feel."

Spock did not flinch. "If I had not intervened, you would have died at your own hand. I want to help you, and traditionally, such acts are emotional in nature. Besides, it would be foolish to pretend my feelings toward you remain a secret."

The ensuing lump in Kirk's throat made him fear he would break down again. "Why?"

"Please clarify."

"Why do you have any...feelings toward me?"

Spock averted his eyes and was silent.

"I mean, why would you want to be with me? I don’t have much intellect to offer. I'm also..." Kirk braced himself. He had prevented himself from saying certain things out loud. "I'm only half a man, Spock. That's what I am now. I'm no longer...whole. I don't have anything to offer you except...pain. I tried to..." Kirk's voice caught. "I didn't even think myself capable of that before, but..."

"You were angry."

"Don't try to justify it! What I did to you...aw hell!" Kirk again started to cry. He covered his face and fought to stay together.

"Why did you not talk to me or Leonard? Why did you let this go so far?"

"Bones still feels guilty about letting me lose Aesina, and you would have been the martyr like you always were! You would have just tried to keep this...whatever going because you felt some vague feeling for me no matter how much it hurt you. I was not going to drag you down with me. You deserve to be happy - or whatever the Vulcan equivalent is. I meant what I said in there, Spock. You don't deserve me."

Spock gulped. It was something Kirk was not used to seeing, neither was T'Ra hopping in the Vulcan's lap and making it clear they were having a silent conversation between them. Usually they kept their relationship strictly private, although it was intimate moments like this which reminded him of the closeness they shared. It only caused the ache of loss to deepen within him.

"Jim," Spock said once T'Ra flew to his shoulder. He appeared nervous, and Kirk could not help but steel himself for whatever was coming next. "I do not know how to tell you what I am feeling, and what I am willing to offer you," Spock continued. "The only way I can make you understand is to show you."

Kirk frowned as Spock's hand came toward him with fingers spread in the all-too-familiar position. He automatically out his hand up to stop him.

"This is not like our normal melds, Jim."

"What kind of meld is it like?"

"It is difficult to explain."

Kirk sighed. "Why is everything so damn difficult to explain with you? I'm done having you do this for me."

Spock squared his jaw. He hesitated before putting his outstretched hand on Kirk's shoulder.

"If you want this to be the last meld, I will honor that wish. But please allow this one."

Kirk could sense the pain and uncertainty in Spock's voice. If the Vulcan did keep his word, it would clearly be the hardest thing he ever had to do.

"Fine," Kirk said as he picked up the slender hand and placed it on his face. His reasoning was to get whatever Spock wanted over with, but he could not help but press the palm to his cheek longer than was normal decorum. The touch felt familiar, like it had been the one spot of light in a dark abyss.

Before Kirk could contemplate the feeling, he was pulled into Spock's expansive mind. Unlike previous excursions, there was the equivalent of a "left turn" as opposed to a right, and he was brought to a new place he had never been. His mind did not create a physical equivalent. Kirk's ocular nerves only sensed bright colors, swirling about like a gathering storm. The beauty was palpable, but the turbulence was frightening, as if a twister or worse would come at a moment's notice.

//These are my emotions, Jim// he heard Spock say. //If I were pure Vulcan, this would be a far more perilous place. Vulcan emotions are volatile things.//

//I can see that,// Kirk replied. He then felt like he was on the back of another being, as if he were being guided though the storm.

//Do not fear, Jim. It is T'Ra.//

The journey was nearly instantaneous, and immediately Kirk was hit with a feeling so strong, he wanted to mentally run in the other direction. Before he could, the hit became an embrace enveloping his entire being - both inside and out. He felt warm, and comfortable, just like he had as a boy while sitting in his mothers lap by the fireplace during a fierce Midwestern blizzard.

Kirk let himself go, allowing the feeling to completely take him. The warmth made way for a sight he had thought long dead - light. The light of the soul. The light that made sentience not just a capacity for independence, but a sacred state. An image appeared of Kirk attempting to cover the gaping hole in his chest, and even going so far as to place straw and discarded paper inside to not feel so hollow. The light offered something to give true substance to his emptiness. The refuse dissolved and was replaced by pure human spirit.

The endless ocean of feeling had now taken him in, and the human swam in an expanse calmer than a lake on a hot summer day. He drank in the sensation, not even knowing how thirsty he had been for it. This place was vast and alien, but somehow he knew it better than anyplace he had ever been. He did not know how he deserved to enter such a place, but he never wanted to leave.

//Jim// said the familiar voice who held this sea within him. Echoing in the background was the voice of his soul, speaking in sync with the mind. The name contained confirmations and questions, which Kirk was all too happy to answer.

//I'm afraid my side is still being remodeled,// was all Kirk could say, feeling the casual words poisoned the purity of this place. Sarcasm, or even mentions of the world outside - or the equivalent world inside his own mind - were not welcome here. This place was where Kirk had found the love of a Vulcan, and it was like no love he had ever seen or felt before.

~~~~~~~~~

Kirk spent an eternity floating in ethereal bliss before he felt himself being gently pulled out.

//No,// he pleaded, trying to pull himself back. It was no use. Nothing this perfect could last forever. When Kirk's eyes opened and saw the ceiling of his quarters, the white tile felt more artificial then where he had been. He was lying down again, sweating profusely with a heavy weight in his groin. His hand touched his face, the faint psychic imprint of his beloved's hand still in place.

Beloved.

Never in all his life did he imagine using this word, particularly in reference to a male of another species who always seemed to be his polar opposite. Yet, it felt right. More than right.

Spock loved him beyond anything he could have imagined. What was once a vague realization was tangible and real. The strength of it was scary, but reassuring. The idea filled him with such happiness, but not as much as the assurance the affections were returned. Kirk could not explain why he knew this - especially since he was just getting reacquainted with emotions he thought dead - but it gave him renewed hope. There was now a chance he could give rather than constantly taking.

Sharp pricks on his stomach startled him out of his thoughts and into a sitting position. The shock turned to fear as he saw the silver bird form of Spock's soul standing on him. Beyond T'Ra's crest was Spock's face, his body sitting at the edge of the bed. His eyes asked the silent question Kirk could not answer in the meld.

The captain looked back to the daemon, his hands shaking as he propped himself on his elbows. The last daemon he had touched other than Aesina was his mother’s red ermine. Although he dreamed of touching a lover’s willing daemon with his own hands, he never let a lover get that close to him. This was as deep an intimacy as humans could ever share on their own. The idea frightened him. During a meld, he could be a pedestrian due to his tattered mind. In this case, he had to participate, or it would be a simple yet grave violation of privacy.

Kirk looked on T'Ra's face, truly examining it for the first time. Her large black eyes had a sheen of brown, and had an inexplicable expressivity. Her imposing grey beak was slightly open, as if preparing to speak. Her silver feathers reflected the low light of the room as brightly as Luna reflected Sol. Kirk only now realized how much he had wanted to touch those feathers. He had imagined what texture they would have or how thick they would be if he ran his fingers through them. For the first time in a night full of revelations, Kirk recognized that the feelings for his Vulcan friend were not new. He could have been hiding this from himself for years.

Kirk expected stiffness in the feathers, like tinsel, but instead found inviting warm softness. T'Ra let out a cooing sound as she closed her eyes and leaned into Kirk's touch.

"Your hands," she said barely above a whisper. "They are...like I always dreamed."

This put Kirk over the edge. He pulled the daemon close and surrounded her in an embrace. He placed multiple kisses along her crest and down her back, burying his face her velvety plumule. Every fiber brushing against skin brought the pure warmth from Spock's mind. Although daemons were naturally warm, T'Ra was in a class by herself. Her temperature made up for Kirk's partial nakedness. Her talons were awkwardly trying to find a place to latch on, desperate to increase the contact. He felt the resulting scratches vividly, as well as the pinches from an exploring beak on his neck. The captain could not bring himself to care.

Kirk had closed his eyes while savoring the sensation of another's soul in his arms, but he soon heard a strange sound coming from the end of the bed. In his frenzy, he had forgotten about Spock's physical half. His heart skipped a beat when he looked up to see the terrifying sight of Spock pulling at his clothing with his eyes tightly closed


	10. Delicate

//Holy shit. I broke Spock.//

Kirk was inwardly frantic, unsure what to do. He could handle Spock crying. He’d seen the man shed tears before, but this was different. It was like there was a monster inside the Vulcan clawing to get out.

//Beloved.// Kirk thought, willing the message toward his friend. //Please, tell me what's wrong.//

"We are overwhelmed," came the voice of T'Ra. She still rested in Kirk's lap. The captain placed his hands around her protectively. "This is the first time I have been touched by another in this way."

"Oh...I'm..." Kirk immediately separated himself from her, redness crawling up his neck. "I'm sorry, I didn't...I thought Uhura had…"

T'Ra responded by jumping back into his lap and nuzzling his chest. "Do not be sorry. This is not a thing you did wrong. It is simply difficult to process the emotions you have awakened."

"Awakened? What about what I saw in your mind? That seemed pretty awake to me."

"We had only reached a single area of emotion within. You did not see the complex controls keeping them from overflowing. The circumstances over these past months have weakened our discipline considerably."

Kirk now felt like pond scum. He should have taken it slower so Spock was not thrust into such a tidal wave of feeling and would not be suffering what, to him, was the ultimate indignity.

"You have not been near a daemon in a long time. Your response was..."

"Dammit, will you stop doing that!" Kirk shouted. "I'm not used to this telepathy stuff, and you really need to stop justifying my actions."

"It was not only your actions, Jim," said T'Ra as she touched her beak to one of the scratches on Kirk's chest. "If you recall, I initiated the contact. This encounter had given...immense pleasure. We were simply not prepared."

Kirk sighed, knowing he was beat. "I'm sure I'd be doing the same if Aesina were still here."

"Emotions run far deeper in Vulcans."

Kirk smiled at the Vulcan version of "I doubt it."

"Well, I never thought I would see the day when I hear you admitting to an impulsive act."

The daemon stayed silent and placed her head against Kirk's chest. In turn, he stroked her feathers gently. Even that simple act caused Spock's outburst to get worse. He bent forward, clutching his stomach, no longer hiding his face. Kirk’s fear vanished as soon as the pained face was revealed.

"I think it's time to go backwards a bit," Kirk said as he kindly pushed T'Ra away from him. Separating himself completely from the silver bird pained him more than he thought it would. He had missed the feel of a daemon on his skin. One uniquely human sensation he found almost impossible to describe was what a daemon felt like.

Kirk reminded himself that despite her attempts at affection, this daemon was not his to touch. He smiled at her and said, "It will be much easier to do this the old fashioned way, like a gentleman should."

Kirk slid off the bed and knelt before Spock. There was still trepidation, but since contact had broke with his daemon, the Vulcan was regaining composure. Kirk knew this would be welcome for Spock, but it might also close a door if shame caused him to withdraw. With all the feelings surging within Kirk right now, this was an unacceptable option.

In his quest to start slow, he placed both hands on Spock's knees, lightly at first, then with more pressure. Kirk slid his thumbs back and forth, feeling the solid warmth and power housed in these legs. He slowly moved his hands up Spock's thighs, until he was mere centimeters from the Vulcan's manhood, whose hardness was obvious through the black pants.

The sight made Kirk's own cock respond in kind, but he restrained himself. He was doing this the old fashioned way after all, and it was uncouth to jump so hard so fast. Kirk thought back to the moments he spent immersed in Spock's love for him, and knew immediately this was not a moment to be taken lightly. This was to be savored and nurtured. He had already pounced headlong into intimate contact with Spock's soul. He would not do the same with his body.

Kirk shifted his hands toward the Vulcan hips, and moved his face close enough to catch the unique scent of the other body. There was a hint of sweet spice - like cinnamon - and sage brush. There was a coppery tint to it as well. Again, Kirk was wondering how he could not have seen how beautiful he found Spock, both inside and out. If he had acted on this before Cerebus II, who knows how much pain and uncertainty could have been avoided.

"Do not think on what might have been," the congested voice of Spock said, startling the captain. Spock reached to hold Kirk's face, but the similarity to melds must have stopped him so he opted for shoulders instead.

"It's hard not to. I mean, humans were obviously having sex long before daemons showed up, but it's become so much more since then. What if I can't give you what you need?"

"All I need is you, Jim. Any part of you, man or soul. You have been worried about reciprocating what I have given. You being here - alive and well - is all I need. All else is supplementary."

The idea of taking it slow was now far less appealing. Kirk's first instinct was to kiss Spock full on the mouth, but it was only right to bend in deference to his partner's cultural needs. Spock had made it clear he loved all parts of Jim, together and separate. Kirk wanted to show, despite the insults and arguments in their past, that he felt the same about the Vulcan and human warring within the other man. He extended his index and middle fingers to touched the left shoulder. The digit tightened and he almost saw the shudder go through the Vulcan body.

"I want you, Spock," Kirk whispered. He eased his way up and appeased Spock's human half with a chaste kiss to the lips. "Each and every part."

Spock put his hand around Kirk's head and pushed their lips together. The kiss deepened, their tongues and lips clamoring for contact. T'Ra moved closer to the pair, and both spared a hand to thread through her feathers. The touch caused a surge through Spock as he threw his arms around Kirk and pulled him down so they were both lying on the bed with the captain on top. Their lips were still connected, tongues entwined, and their position made their mutual arousal all the more obvious. Kirk figured it would be equally unbecoming of a gentleman to leave one he loved in such a state for very long, so he reached to unzip Spock's pants and repositioned his briefs so the erect penis could spring free.

Spock did the same with Kirk's cock and they started a mutual rhythm with their hands. Spock was unsure at first how best to commence, but signals from their bond helped his rhythm improve. As the pressure built, the kisses stopped as they savored the sensation of their reciprocal touches and looked into each others eyes. Kirk used his free arm to support his body, while Spock's was free to grip his neck. They both came within nanoseconds of each other, spilling their seed on their clothes and hands.

At long last, Kirk felt whole.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ever since passing into the Neutral Zone between Federation space and the Romulan Empire, D’Lana's sense of excitement became trepidation. Bathsheba could not help but share in this, since this alliance had been so important to her friend.

"It is time to uncloak," D’Lana said to her helmsman. "But first, send a message to our friend Commander Chavek Liorae-sihaer. Tell him Lady D’Lana has succeeded."

"Yes, m'lady," said the man at the communications console. D’Lana strode to his side, watching as he relayed a message in the Romulan language. Within minutes, a reply came in the form of a live vid call.

"Bring him up on the screen," D’Lana said with a smile.

The image on the screen was of a slight Romulan man clothed in military robes. The room he was in appeared small, signaling he was alone and hidden.

"Jolan Tru, Commander," D’Lana said with a bow.

"Greetings Lady D’Lana," said the Romulan. "I apologize for my generic greeting, but I am still unfamiliar with Xarth customs."

"I hope to teach you once we begin our collaboration."

"So, you have successfully used the human-daemon bond to create energy," Chavek said with a hint of a smile. "At least, this is my assumption. I did not expect you to return to the Neutral Zone empty handed, especially since you carry one of our cloaking devices."

D’Lana smiled as she bent down to stroke Bathsheba on the head. "Indeed, our ship has been running on pure energy from the bond for two and a half months."

"Two and a half months? How many humans?"

"Sixteen, Commander. And there is at least two months worth of energy left if we remain cloaked."

The smirk became a grin on Chavek's face. "Along with your unique gifts, this could certainly turn the tide in our favor."

"Remember, this is also for my people, Commander. They are the first who will receive this technology. I first must retrieve this daemon's human in order to convince them the procedure is safe."

Chavek leaned forward in his seat to get a closer look at D’Lana. "Do you mean the Earth creature beside you is a daemon?"

D’Lana opened her mouth to speak, but thought the better of it.

"Yes," Bathsheba said in her stead. "I once belonged to a human called James Kirk."

"James Kirk? Of the Enterprise?"

"Of course," Bathsheba replied. "But that is in the past now. I have found a new life aboard this ship, and am more than willing to help both you and D’Lana get what you need."

"This is an intriguing development," Chavek said, sitting back in his chair. "James Kirk was the one who defeated a ship full of our people from the future. This incident destroyed any hope of a peace treaty, and increase the military strength of the Federation has made my people fearful.”

"I remember," Bathsheba said, although such memories were vague.

"Your help in achieving this technology has been immense, and our agreement will be honored," said D’Lana, giving one last squeeze to her daemon. "With your help, we will take Xarth and make it a Romulan commonwealth. We will then use my planet as a place to research the daemon and what other ways we can use it. Think of what new possibilities could be unlocked for your Empire with this technology."

"It will certainly open up new possibilities for our human slaves, and there are many Romulans who would be interested in having daemons for themselves. This will cause heightened tensions with the Federation, but this is not a concern with me."

"Let us not get ahead of ourselves, Commander. I first want to obtain the human James Kirk. He must convince my people to join us."

For the first time, Chavek had the ghost of a sneer. "I will help you get James Kirk, as long as I get his crew."

"Get them?"

"I want to do the same to them as you did to the captain. I want their daemons, and their energy. My people's elation at this new opportunity will only be heightened if the Federation's most beloved crew are shown as the linchpins."

"I am glad you are satisfied," said D’Lana. "And before I forget, I have a gift for you which should be helpful in your goal."

D’Lana turned just as Dr. Weinburg entered the bridge from the back, silently carrying a long stiff bundle wrapped in torn silk. D’Lana reverently took the item and allowed the silk to fall to the ground. The held a sword with a dingy purple blade, and a bronze handle. She held the sword before her using both hands so the Commander could see it clearly.

"Why do you present me with such a primitive weapon? What use have I for that?"

"This 'primitive weapon' has an Oolomite blade," said D’Lana. "Oolomite is an earth mineral which is quite valuable on the black market as a basis for decorative items. However, it is also the only known element which can cut the human-daemon bond."

Chavek appeared as elated as his subdued Romulan heritage allowed. "I could use that sword to separate a man from his daemon in battle?"

"With your own two hands. We have a device which makes a cut and collects the energy, so if you would like to utilize the resources..."

"Believe me, D’Lana," Chavek interrupted. "I will have use for this sword. You have given a...thoughtful gift."

"We also have a drug which eases the shock of separation so the human life is preserved. If you want to parade the daemons as you say, I would not use this gift impulsively."

"I never do so with my weapons," the commander replied. "To do so is dishonorable, and does not make for good revenge."

D’Lana gave the gift back to Dr. Weinburg, and walked to the screen so she was only inches from the Romulan's face.

"Our first objective is to get James Kirk and the Enterprise," D’Lana said. "I will take care of where this will take place. I take it your leadership still is unaware of your conversations with me."

"You are correct. It is better this way. The help my men offer will be that of a group of rogues. This way, we will avoid war if this does not go well."

"I take it Romulus is unprepared for such a possibility."

"We are always prepared, but this new energy source will take time to bring to its full potential. Prolonged peacetime will be needed to do this."

"How will you take two senior officers of the Enterprise without sacrificing such peacetime?"

"This is what you and I will figure out, Lady D’Lana, when you come to my home tomorrow night."

D’Lana lifted her eyebrows. She had never entered a Romulan homestead before. This would be yet another new experience among many. "That would be satisfactory, Commander. This ship does get cramped after a while."

"It does appear to be quite small," Chavek said with a smile. "I will send you the coordinates to travel to, but make sure you remain cloaked."

"Of course. Jolan Tru, Commander."

"Jolan Tru, Lady D’Lana. I look forward to a long and productive collaboration."

~~~~~~~~~~

Spock could not sleep, nor did he expect himself to. While his emotions no longer overwhelmed him like they had only a half hour ago, they were the first thing on his mind.

Kirk was cuddled up to his side with his arms wrapped around his torso. The soft snoring told Spock the other man was asleep, and his shields were effective. Spock's arms circled around the Kirk, the fingers of one hand interlaced in soft, blonde hair. Both were wearing nightshirts from Kirk's wardrobe after both of their clothes were ruined by the dual hand job. It was a mutual decision since Spock would have been chilly in the human's room, and Kirk wanted to "show solidarity."

//Imagine,// T'Ra said. //Only a few hours ago, this was impossible.//

Spock averted his eyes upward to look toward his daemon who was perched on the shelf above the bed. She had been between them until she started to get crushed by their closeness.

He was not one to dwell on how quickly life changed, but in this case, he could not help but join T'Ra's wonder. Every time he let himself fall into his joy, though, his practical self pulled back and made him consider the ramifications.

//He still might not love me,// Spock said.

//Or he might. There is no way of knowing.//

//We might not have a true bond yet, but for all intents and purposes, I am acting as his daemon. My feelings could be yielding a great influence over him.//

//And yet we chose to share them.//

//There was no other choice. He wanted to kill himself. He needed to know a bond with him would not be out of pity.//

//There were at least 26 other ways we could have shared such a fact.//

//But far fewer would have been accepted as truth.//

//Either way, we still have not proposed the permanent joining of our minds.//

//But he will accept. I know he will, which is my concern. Jim might have regained much of his faculties, but he is still vulnerable. He will gravitate toward me because I am filling the void Aesina left behind. His aversion to mind melds would have made the possibility distasteful were he at full capacity.//

//Leonard has tried to tell us this multiple times, and his logic is sound. Jim is a man who keeps his emotions to himself and uses gruffness and sarcasm to hide his deeper feelings. Based on what we have seen within him, he could have easily felt for us before.//

//Your own conclusions are not based on solid data. Jim's mind has been altered due to his experience, much like mine had been altered after Vulcan was destroyed. Much like a broken bone can heal crooked if set incorrectly, so the mind can be warped if given the chance.//

//And you think the way we are healing his mind will cause it to heal crooked?//

//If it has not already done so.//

//So what do you propose to do about this possibility? Eliminate the link? Stop the melds? End this relationship before it starts? All of these will no doubt destroy Jim.//

//I know, but I cannot risk entering into a romantic liaison when the other party is not willing. This would not be fair to him. It would be akin to rape.//

//That is extreme.//

//Is it?//

T'Ra was silent for a beat before saying, //Spock, we are happy.//

Spock drew a shaky breath. //Yes.//

//Is it not true we have always pushed back against happiness because to be in such a state would not become a Vulcan?//

//This entire situation has happened because feelings clouded my judgment. Vulcans are not to seek happiness because...//

//...seeking such pursuits is akin to chasing ghosts. At least, that is how the humans would say it. True happiness is not possible, and if temporarily attained, clouds logic in an unseemly manner. This is true, but we are not chasing ghosts. We are chasing a living, breathing man who is in real pain and is seeking us out for relief. Wherever his attraction to us comes from is irrelevant. Most sentient beings are not drawn to partners through 'pure' motives anyway. We know he will not bring us happiness. There will be painful days ahead, but we are the only ones who can help him through this, both on this ship, or off. It is only logical for this relationship to continue.//

Spock pondered his daemon's words. //Your logic is sound.//

//Do not talk to me like I am Father. We both know the truth. I am simply not going to let your doubts stand in the way of what must be done.//

//Are they not your doubts, too?//

//I have no doubts right now. This is right. All we have desired has come to fruition, and nothing has told me our desires were unmerited.//

Kirk moved underneath Spock, which made him realize his shields had slipped in the past minute. It should not have been enough for Kirk to hear their conversation, but the noise would have still been hard to sleep through. Once he clamped them down again, he saw Jim was already awake. The younger man started stroking his chest while nuzzling his head against his side.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Kirk said.

"I do not see why I would accept arcane copper money to share thoughts with you, Jim."

Kirk chuckled. "I always love when you do that."

"I always assumed you were perturbed by it."

"It wouldn't have been any fun if I hadn't given you a hard time about it." Kirk took Spock's hand in his and kissed his palm, letting warmth flow through the Vulcan. Not for the first time, Spock wondered why he had any doubts at all.

"I am simply...pondering whether or not to ask you something."

"Ask away," Kirk said between kisses.

Spock continued to enjoy the captain's ministrations, but forced himself back to the task at hand. He knew despite what had happened, Kirk did not have a firm grip on his humanity. Despite all they had shared, he would still go back to his pure severed state if another rejuvenation meld was not performed, and Spock had begun to feel his energy wane.

"Jim," Spock began. "I will not be able to meld with you much longer without posing...risk to both of us."

The kisses stopped. Spock could feel Kirk's eyes on him.

"I knew it was killing you," the captian said in a downtrodden voice.

"It will not cause my death, but it will…incapacitate me. I do have another proposal."

"Does it involve another one of your Vulcan secrets?"

Spock sighed. "No, Jim. What I am asking is a well known practice."

"Will it hurt you?"

"No. In fact, it would give me great joy. However, before tonight, I was not sure you would agree."

There was a pause between them. "You want to bond with me, don't you? You want to have a...Vulcan marriage."

Spock could not discern the tone in Kirk's voice. There was definitely surprise, but whether he heard joy or disdain was a mystery. He purposefully blocked himself from reading anything from Kirk and asked T'Ra to do the same. Such insights would have been helpful, but the knowing answer was too frightening.

The pregnant silence was too much for Spock. "If we bonded, we would be in contact with each other at all times. I would be functioning much like Aesina did, in that we would be sharing T'Ra essentially. If we...."

Spock was stopped by a kiss. Relief flooded through him.

Once they broke apart, Kirk said, "I would be honored to marry you Spock. And don't think I don't see past that Vulcan practicality. You've wanted this for a while."

Spock's tensed, immediately thinking it was an accusation. However, upon seeing Kirk's smiling face, he relaxed. Spock had not seen the other man's face light up like this in what felt like a lifetime. Seeing brightness return caused him to mirror his lover, which caused another chuckle.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were smiling."

"I could say the same for you."

"Well, I've never been proposed to before, especially not by a being as impossibly perfect as you."

"Believe me, Jim. I am not perfect. Being bonded to a Vulcan will not be easy."

"Being married to a human isn't easy either," Kirk replied. "But I’m willing to work at it. I don’t want to lose you."

As they kissed once again, T'Ra joined them and welcomed light touches from Kirk. Spock shivered and moaned into his lover's mouth.

"We will need to wait at least a few days so I can prepare," Spock said once they separated. "We will have to tell Dr. McCoy, and..."

"Spock," Kirk chided with an accompanying squeeze in the ribs. "Shut up."

Kirk gravitated downward and wrapped his lips around Spock’s erect cock. All doubts evaporated instantly .


	11. Friendship

Several days had passed, and one of the most active months in the ship’s memory finally came to a close. Krios IV had a mining dispute dealt with by the captain, and the Betazoids were being menaced by an entity who was throwing their telepathy out of whack. All in a week's work for a starship. The only difference to McCoy was that his two best friends were nowhere to be found when off duty. The first he had heard from them in a non-work capacity in the past week was when they contacted him through private comm channel saying they had something important to discuss.

"Spock made the request from Jim’s comm channel," Leauna said as McCoy walked down the hall. "He looked pretty happy. I don't think it takes a genius to figure out what they're going to tell us."

McCoy nodded in agreement, knowing no words were necessary. He had noticed the recent turnaround in both Spock and Kirk as much as the crew did. Some even said that Kirk seemed to be back to his old self. They had said the same of Spock, except for his general refusal to go on away missions. McCoy could not think of anything which could cause that great a change besides what he was suspecting.

"I have to admit, I'm proud of Spock," Leauna said once they entered the captain's office.

"Here here," McCoy replied, letting a grin split his face. "Is it bad that we believed nothing would ever come of Spock's feelings?"

"It was an educated assumption. The same was true with Jim' condition. Speaking of which..."

McCoy was interrupted by a blinking light on his private vid phone. Once McCoy brought it out of sleep mode, he saw that his daughter had paged him. Because of the long distance, this would not have happened if it were not an emergency. Without hesitation, he called Joanna.

She answered within three rings. “Hey, Dad!”

“Jo, what’s the matter?” His racing heart slowed as he saw the young lady in her lab coat and goggles with a large smile on her face. She must have come out of one of her chemistry classes.

“Nothing’s wrong, Dad. I just have really good news. Remember when I told you about T’Remberale? The Vulcan who is one of my professors?”

McCoy tried not to be irritated at the fact his daughter seemed to be using an emergency channel to talk about something nice her professor crush said to her.

“Vaguely. Why?”

“Well, she came up to me and asked if it was true my dad worked on the Enterprise, and I said it was, so she said that she actually knew Mr. Spock when he was a kid and heard about what he was doing for the captain and then said she wanted to help, so I gave her your number. I know that you are weird around Vulcans, but she is really personable and fun and really wants to help.”

“Wait, you gave my personal number to a stranger?” His daughter might be brilliant, but much too naïve. She got that from her mother – a fact that worried him.

“She said she could help. And she’s a Vulcan. Selling your number to a marketer or something would be illogical.”

Joanna appeared out of breath after making such a long ramble. McCoy was skeptical about how much help this stranger could give the captain, but he did not want to project that to his overly-enthusiastic daughter. He had done enough recently to temper her optimistic expectations about her field of study, and none of it seemed to stick.

A beep alerted McCoy to the fact that he had a vid message on his calm from the same location as Starbase 16 – likely from Joanna’s Vulcan friend. Despite his skepticism, he could not suppress the glimmer of hope he had at this development.

“We’ll talk about this later, Jo. It looks like woman has already messaged me. Unless of course you’re getting expelled and haven’t told me.”

“Awesome!!” The girl said, ignoring the joke.

“Don’t get too excited. We’ll be talking about respecting my privacy later.”

McCoy hung up with his daughter and immediately opened the message. He was greeted with an image of a plain-looking Vulcan woman sitting behind a desk. Her hair was similar to Spock's, only slightly longer, and she wore the traditional robe of a healer. The shining Starfleet insignia sewn on the robe's shoulder stood in stark contrast to the homely appearance of the woman.

"Hello Doctor McCoy," the recording began. "My name is T'Remberale. I am a healer in Starfleet's employ on Starbase 16. I have been informed of the situation of the settlers on Cerebus II, and that you had taken a personal interest in their recovery due to the tragedy befalling your captain. First, I must express my condolences. Second, I wanted to extend my hand to collaborate and find a solution. My specialty is quite rare - kator-dva. Roughly translated, I am trained in how to use my telepathic abilities in regards to the katra. While I mainly specialize in Vulcan katras and their transference to the Hall of Ancient Thought, I have been studying much about the human-daemon relationship though my work among your race. I might have insights into how to heal the broken rifts the settlers have suffered. I would very much like to talk with you over live com link in the next few days, and eventually I would like to meet in person to evaluate Captain Kirk. Please return this at your convenience. Live long and prosper."

The screen went blank, and McCoy was left dumbfounded. Based on what his daughter had said, the research taking place at her school was in its infancy and there would be no real results for decades. However, from what this Vulcan said, she herself was far enough along to actually be able to impact Jim’s case.

"We can't get too excited. She didn't say she had a cure," Leauna said.

"It's more than we've gotten in months, though.”

"I guess we can kill two birds with one stone then. Let's invite our new Vulcan friend to Jim and Spock’s coming out party."

“Vulcan friend?”

McCoy was startled when he turned to see Spock standing in the doorway with a PADD in his hand. McCoy had almost forgot that this was the time of month where the Science Department turned in their monthly report on potential pathogen leaks. In the past few months, Spock had liked to do this in person.

“I apologize for overhearing your private conversation, Leonard, but you left your door open.”

McCoy had been about to open his mouth to chide Spock for coming in uninvited before he was interrupted and reminded of his carelessness. “Oh,” the doctor said instead.

 

A part of his conversation with Jo came to him suddenly. “Hey, when you were a kid, do you remember knowing someone called T’Remberale?”

Spock stiffened and T’Ra’s feathers ruffled.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

//That’s one thing she was telling the truth about,// Leauna commented. //That’s a good sign.//

“Well, apparently your old friend is one of Joanna’s teachers on Starbase 16, and she just sent me an interesting message.”

After a pause, Spock gripped the PADD and said, “Tell me about this message, Doctor.”

~~~~~~~~

"Okay Spock. Spill." Jim said as he pulled his uniform tunic over his head. "Who is this T'Rememberall, and why's she got you in a tizzy?"

Spock was going through his usual routine of straightening his clothing and smoothing his hair in the mirror. Kirk could not help but grin at how his lover even felt the need to look perfect when going on an off-duty social call.

"Her name is T'Rem-ber-ah-lay," Spock said slowly as he grabbed his comb from T'Ra's beak. "She was an old friend of mine on Vulcan. I have not seen her in many years."

"Ah," Kirk said with a grin. He plopped on Spock's bed and put his arms behind his head. "An old girlfriend, eh?"

"If she were so, I would have told you," Spock replied, somewhat curtly. "We were friends as children. In fact, she was the only one who was kind to me in school while all others, including my betrothed, treated me like an enigma."

Kirk's face fell. "Oh. Sorry, Spock." After a pause, he continued. “How did she survive Vulcan’s destruction?”

“She works off planet.” The Vulcan emerged from the bathroom with T'Ra perched on his shoulder. Kirk longed for the time when they would finally become bonded, so he could avoid awkward moments like this when he feared he hurt the Vulcan's feelings with his careless words.

Although the past week had brought Kirk immeasurable happiness, he also was aware of how new and fragile their relationship was. There were many matters they had yet to address. The largest one was Spock's fear Kirk might abandon him when - or if - he was reunited with Aesina. Kirk wanted nothing more to assure him this was not an issue, but he also knew nothing would convince the Vulcan until the reunion actually happened.

"Do not be sorry, Jim," Spock said in a far more gentle voice.

"Okay, but I still don't understand why you're so jumpy. If she was really that nice to you, then wouldn't you be happy to see her?"

Spock sighed. "Since we do not have much time before we are to meet Leonard, it would be far easier for me to show you the details."

Kirk nodded as he allowed Spock to sit beside him and initiate a meld. Joining with Spock's mind was now as easy as tying his shoes or brushing his teeth, and yet there remained a feeling of awe.

The image of the barren Vulcan landscape materialized, along with a lone boy followed by a saber-toothed animal with copious brown fur.

//I'm guessing that's a selat,// Kirk commented.

//No, that is T'Ra, in the form of a selat.//

//That’s what I meant, Mr. Literal.//

//Either way,// T'Ra interjected. //I admit it was not my finest form.//

The group continued watching the scene as several Vulcan boys - all quite a bit taller than the younger Spock - started to run toward him. Kirk tensed. This was not going to end well. He did not know if he could bear to watch helplessly as the younger version of his beloved was tormented for the way he was born. Spock felt his reluctance and expressed gratitude and love for these feelings. He then urged him to continue to pay attention.

One of the boys – who had a swollen and bruised face - snuck up behind them and pulled T'Ra's stubby tail. Kirk flinched and immediately got angry.

//Even toddlers know better than to do that!//

//Human toddlers, maybe.//

//ANY toddler!//

Kirk was appeased when he saw T'Ra change forms into a Terran black bear. This seemed to frighten two of the boys, but the injured one said, "It cannot hurt us. Daemons are harmless. Spock is simply emoting." The final word was practically spit. "The human trespasser you call a mother gave this blight to you, Spock. Why do you not chide it?"

Kirk knew what he would do in this situation, but he did not expect Spock to do the opposite. "T'Ra!" Spock shouted to the bear. "Stop! Vulcans do not act in such a way."

The daemon shrunk back - Kirk swore he saw hurt register on her face - and changed into something which looked like a chicken.

//Dokai// Spock provided.

//Why did you listen to those little bastards?// Kirk asked angrily. Both Spock and his daemon remained silent. //And why did you yell at T'Ra? She should have known what to do without any communication.//

//Our relationship was quite different back then, Jim.//

"Neither do the three of you," came another voice, this one feminine. Seemingly from out of nowhere, a Vulcan girl in a thin white dress and hair in a long braid ran to stand beside Spock. "As I am sure your fathers have taught you, the daemon is in essence a katra."

"A human katra," the leader said. "If Spock wants to carry such a thing around, he does not belong in our society. He cannot be truly Vulcan with such a thing..."

"How would you feel if I called your katra a 'thing,' Stonn?"

//Stonn? The kid you beat up for insulting your mom?//

//Precisely.//

//Wow. No wonder he looks so rough.//

The girl walked slowly toward the gang, and Kirk could have sworn the boys looked nervous. She extended her hand before saying, "Maybe you would like to see how it feels to have your katra touched by another. My mother has been apprenticing me, as you know. I have been waiting to practice fal-tor-pan on someone. Maybe your katras would fit well in a a'kweth or a sha'vokh.

//The equivalents of a sandworm and a vulture,// Spock provided.

//Oh,// Kirk said, impressed. //She's good.//

"Y-you are being untruthful," Stonn said, although his body language betrayed he thought nothing of the sort.

The girl gave a small Vulcan smile which communicated so much. "Why Stonn, it appears you are _emoting_."

Once the girl got within a meter of the group, Stonn held up a hand.

"It is illogical to continue in this conversation with you when we have far more important...pursuits. I do not have time to listen to your threats." With that, the trio turned and walked toward town, although faster than they normally would.

"You should not have done that," The younger Spock said immediately with a hint of anger in his voice. "It was logical for me to learn how to control myself in such situations."

"You cannot tell me such actions are logical," the girl replied. "I do not take kindly to disrespecting another's katra, or any other part for that matter."

"Internal katras are far more logical. An external one is vulnerable and brings forth emotions that cloud thought."

"Your mother seems to be faring well with her own."

"How could you know of my mother and Bayanai?"

"You are Spock, son of Sarek and the human Amanda. All of Shi'kahr knows of the half human among them."

"Just as they know of T'Remberale, the daughter of the kator-dva healer T'’Sari - keeper of the Hall of Ancient Thought."

The girl gave another smile. "So you have heard of me. Yes, I am T'Sari's daughter, and I realize what is said about my family's area of expertise. Yet, I am proud of who I am. You, however, are ashamed of your human heritage, and the daemon at your side. I am envious of the opportunity to intimately know my own soul as humans do. If my ancestors and I were not so uniquely attuned to our own katras, we would likely question their existence."

"It is a far less cumbersome prospect."

"In other words, it would allow your peers to treat you as an equal? From my experience, even if you had no daemon, you would endure the same treatment."

"There is no reason your experience and mine would be similar."

T'Remberale looked like she wanted to sigh but did not. "Will you at least let me walk you home?"

"I can take care of myself."

"I am not coming for protection. I simply want to talk. I promise, if we encounter anyone uncouth on the way, you can lead our defense."

The younger Spock seemed to ponder the request, then nodded.

The desert image faded to a night scene. The sky had no moon and was dotted with seemingly endless stars. Underneath the sky was a vast garden illuminated by soft lanterns lining the winding paths. The garden was lush with flowers from many worlds, but the most prominent origin was Earth.

Towering over the garden was an oak tree, which looked to be thriving despite the dry environment. Among the branches sat three figures - two humanoid and one avian. Spock and T'Remberale appeared older than the previous image. Spock had grown much taller and lankier and his companion had more feminine features. T'Ra had settled into the familiar teresh-ka form, signaling Spock had undergone puberty by now.

"I met my betrothed today," T'Remberale said, as if discussing the weather. "He is a fine boy, one of the most intelligent in our school. He also amused me with anecdotes of his father's experiments on Terran ferrets."

Spock nodded, appearing to only half listen.

"I was originally unsure about having my spouse chosen for me, but I have no doubt I will desire him in time. I should have surmised my mother would choose an adequate mind match for me."

"Your mother is wise," Spock said, sporting a much deeper voice than before.

"If I did not know any better, I would say you are distracted," T'Remberale said, nudging Spock in the arm.

"Your assumptions are correct," was all the reply she heard.

"Well, it is a logical action to tell your closest friends of troubles so they do not impede your functioning."

Kirk could have sworn there was an undertone of disdain as she spoke in a very Vulcan fashion.

"You are correct, I have just not told anyone as of yet. As you know, my betrothed is T'Pring."

"Yes," T'Remberale said with even more disdain. "I take it you still have not told your father you are sa-ka-ashausu."

//Translation?//

//It is the Vulcan term for a male homosexual.//

//Really? You’re not attracted to women at all? What about Uhura?//

//I had no attraction to T’Pring or T’Remberale, so I assumed I was unable to be attracted to women. Uhura proved I was indeed bisexual.”

//Huh, good for us then.//

"Such facts are irrelevant. As the only son, it is my responsibility to help carry on my father's line. Even if my inclinations are not toward my bondmate's gender, she will still be who I am drawn to during my Time."

"Which leaves T'Pring on her own in the seven years between."

"This is not what I am pondering on, anyway," Spock said, a hint of frustration in his voice. "And I wish you would not push me to tell my family irrelevant facts about my own inclinations."

From Kirk's vantage point, T'Remberale was visibly hurt by this.

"T'Pring's father has informed Sarek that he does not feel it right for T'Ra to be...present when we are married. He says the family finds it distasteful, and had only agreed to the betrothal because they assumed there was a way to neutralize the daemon without harming me."

"It seems quite illogical to make such an assumption."

"Not so when you learn your mother told them it was possible."

T'Remberale's eyes widened and looked at her friend. "Surely you cannot be serious. She said nothing to me about such a thing."

“It is an easy process. Her power to manipulate the katra through mental energy easily translates to the human daemon. It would be a simple procedure of transferring the entity from the physical plane to the internal plane. T'Ra would lose her sentience and become an extension of my consciousness, like all Vulcan katras."

"But...they cannot force you into such a thing."

"If I do not marry T'Pring, I do not see how I can find another suitable woman due to my...condition. T'Pau knows my mind and says she is the best match on planet. She visited me and informed me this procedure would not only allow for my marriage, but also make my intended goal of following Vulcan intellectual pursuits far easier."

T'Remberale by now had moved so she was sitting in front of Spock. "So in other words, she said you cannot be truly Vulcan if you have T'Ra?"

Kirk could not help but notice the daemon in question was perched on a branch ignoring the proceedings and looking at the stars. He had never seen a daemon so uninvolved in this sort of conversation.

"You do not need T'Pring," T'Remberale continued. "You can find a male mate just as easily. A t'hy'la bond is well regarded among our people."

"I would not be able to produce children," Spock said, averting his gaze from the girl.

"Male Vulcans can carry children much more safely than most species. The VSA has proven this."

"I am half human. Every human male who has tried to carry a child has died."

"That might not be the case in a few years."

"T'Remberale, please stop," Spock said. "If it were not for you, this decision would not be as difficult. It is, however, necessary."

The girl clenched her fists. "I will never regret teaching you how to love your daemon. She does not deserve to be sitting above us like a Terran gargoyle. You are the only one who has the right to decide what happens with your soul."

Spock took a deep breath and turned to climb down the tree.

"Spock..."

"I would kindly ask that you leave my mother's garden. Our conversation is over."

//What's with the hostility?//

//I had blamed her for the turmoil within. There was also a part of me which blamed her for my being forced to eliminate my daemon.//

//Sounds like a normal response from a teenager.//

//It was in times like this, I wish I had been more Vulcan. Such actions were not fair to her. They sprung from emotional turmoil caused by my childhood, and were not her burden to bear.//

T'Ra jumped in. //She was right. Spock was too young to be aware the daemon is not just a pet, but an essential part of who the person was. If there is a rejection of the daemon, there can be grave psychological consequences. Spock grew up a confused and repressed boy because of what had happened, and in turn I felt the same.//

//You talk as if you were...separate people.//

//In essence, we were,// Spock said. //I might as well have been severed, but instead of an outsider cutting me off suddenly, I created the rift on my own. If there had not been intervention, the damage would have been irreparable.//

In the flashback, T'Remberale huffed as she jumped from the high branch to land on her feet. She gave the boy a subtly dangerous look. "Live long and prosper," she spat as she hurried out of the premises. Spock was left standing alone at the foot of the tree. T'Ra flew to perch on a nearby brick fence. She looked directly at her parent.

"Spock," she said forcefully. The young Vulcan had been averting his gaze but now looked straight at her with a sad and defeated look.

The scene faded again to a cavernous room with a semi-circle of older Vulcans sitting above a younger Spock, whose daemon was now on his shoulder.

“We are impressed with your progress, Spock, despite your disadvantage.”

“Disadvantage?”

“The exposed soul your mother forced upon you.”

The only sign T’Ra from the past was bothered was a swish of the tail.

“I thank you for your generous offer, but I must respectfully decline.”

The older Vulcans murmured. “No Vulcan has ever rejected entry into the science academy.”

“And since I am half human, your record remains intact.”

Past T’Ra stretched her neck upward, and touched her beak to the tip of Spock’s ear, which caused movement in all of the council members. Except two. T’Sali and T’Remberale.

The meld broke and Kirk rubbed his eyes to get used to the bedroom again. He reached immediately for Spock's hand before the Vulcan could run off, entwining their fingers in the process.

"I can't believe they almost made you do that," Kirk said, almost in a whisper.

"Those around me saw my daemon as a hindrance," Spock replied. “I chose to see her as an asset instead.”

The captain's eyes found T'Ra, who was perched on Spock's shoulder. He found it hard to believe the neglected creature from the memory was this same being, who stood by her parent to a fault. Kirk had heard about daemon rejection, but he had not seen it and he certainly could not fathom it. To reject a daemon was akin to purposefully not breathing.

"You think less of me now," Spock said, more as a statement than a question. "It is hard for you to understand how one can treat a daemon so coolly."

Kirk nodded. "I admit I thought this of you quite a bit after we first met. T'Ra seemed more like window dressing to you. But, what I just saw...that was a whole 'nother level."

"Shame," T'Ra provided. "Spock was ashamed of me."

"I was not ashamed of my mother or my human side," Spock provided.

"T'Ra was your human side!"

"Not necessarily, Jim. There is more to being human than just a daemon. T'Ra represented an exposure of the inner self, something Vulcans avoid. The inner self is to remain private, and kept under tight control. Animals are the epitome of chaos, or so Vulcan common sense would say. It seemed to undermine the choice I made to follow the Vulcan way. Of course, Vulcans respect both humans and daemons, but they did not think such a 'childish' expression of one's soul was appropriate for one of their own. In short, T'Ra represented all the ways I was inferior to my peers."

Kirk's eyes filled up with tears as anger welled in him. As a man who would give anything in the universe to have his daemon back again, seeing other daemons treated badly was a heart wrenching concept. Kirk had known Vulcans were not perfect, but he had no idea they had thought such things about daemons. All he wanted to do was march into that damn great hall….

…that did not exist anymore. There was nothing Kirk could do make them suffer more than they already had.

Kirk looked toward his lover and was reminded of the present. T'Ra stood close to Spock now, like so many other daemons did, and appeared to give the same good feelings to her parent. Their relationship now stood in stark contrast to what he had seen in the past.

Spock remained a contradiction. He had chosen the Vulcan way. Yet had a glaring reminder of his "inadequacy" with him at all times. The only people who had told him otherwise were T'Remberale and (hopefully) his mother. Kirk could not imagine such a thing happening to him, even from Frank or the cruelest of school bullies.

"From what you grew up with," Kirk said. "I don't blame you for the way you acted. From the looks of it, your own father even wanted you rid of her."

"From what I remember of my infancy, my father was distressed I had a daemon. Since so many of my other bodily functions were Vulcan, he hoped my katra would do the same."

"That’s just fucking tough," Kirk growled. "He chose to marry a human. He should have known something like that would happen."

"We have pondered similarly on many occasions," T'Ra chimed.

Kirk reached out two fingers and stroked her neck. After getting to know Spock's daemon, he could not imagine such a being not existing. She could not be a vague, ethereal force within Spock if she tried. It was her destiny to live her life in the open.

"What made you change your mind?" Kirk asked. "About T'Ra."

Spock hesitated. "My mother and I had a...talk. She completed the work T'Remberale had been attempting. It was not a cure, but it allowed me to begin peaceful coexistence with my human side. Later, this relationship blossomed into what it is now, but it took many years."

"I'm glad," Kirk said with a grin. "I would love to know what your mother said to you."

"That will come when we do not have an appointment to keep," Spock replied. "The emotional effects of reliving the memory - they will take some time to recover from."

"I can live with that, but as illuminating as this trip down memory lane was, I still don't see why you're so nervous about seeing this woman. You took her advice after all. I assumed you would have made up after this."

"We did not," Spock admitted, sadly. "I could not face her after my behavior, especially with all she had done for me. That day in the council chambers was the last I saw T'Remberale."

"Until now."

"Yes, indeed," Spock whispered. "T'Remberale is the one I most strongly associate with almost losing T'Ra. It is not a pleasant time to look back on, especially now."

Kirk stood from the bed and kissed Spock softly on the lips. He ran his hand up and down in arm in a comforting gesture.

"It appears there were no hard feelings on her part. She offered to help us, even though she probably knows this is your ship."

"But she likely does not know I am so closely involved with you."

Their foreheads touched as they drank in the sensation of contact. "You don't have to come if you don't want to," Kirk said. "If this is too painful..."

"No, you are my future bondmate. Your fate and mine are intertwined. I must be there for you, and continue the quest to have you healed."

Kirk smiled and gave the Vulcan another human kiss, longer and deeper this time.

"Good, because I don't like the idea of being away from you."

~~~~~~~~~

The pair walked into McCoy's office, immediately grabbing each others hands. They had both agreed not to mince words.

They were greeted with a grin from their friend. McCoy could not have been happier his suspicions were confirmed, although he was loathe to show it. "I guess I don't need to ask what you've been doing with your free time."

Kirk's face lit up. The doctor was not prepared for the surge of emotion at seeing his friend smile again. Having gotten used to the dark and sullen expression partnered with the occasional forced grin, this was something of a shock. Jim was happy.

"I do not believe dwelling on the happy news is in our best interests right now, Doctor," Spock said. "I believe our meeting with T'Remberale is on the forefront of our minds." Kirk's face grimaced, but he did nod in agreement.

McCoy stood from his chair, and walked over to the pair with his tricorder in hand. "Well, the healer hasn’t hailed us yet, so I want to make sure you haven’t broken anything on our captain.”

“Bones!”

“Since the captain and I have not engaged in penetrative intercourse as of yet, such a possibility is remote.”

“Oh my God, Spock!” McCoy shouted as Kirk burst into laughter. “Thanks for branding that image in my brain for all time.”

“Don’t mention it, Bones.”

"Well, you’re fit as a fiddle," McCoy said, barely even looking at the instrument. "I’m still wondering how this much improvement could happen so quickly."

"It turns out Spock was holding back," Kirk said. "If he gave too much in our melds, that would mean we would telepathically bond. The thing was, it was happening anyway because our minds are compatible, as the Vulcans would say. The feelings on both our parts helped, too. This caused me to have a bit of a...breakdown." McCoy caught T'Ra bristling at the word. "Long story short, this drove us to admit our feelings, and we committed to enter into a Vulcan marriage bond."

"Woah. Marriage?" McCoy said, pulling back in shock.

"You guys just got together a week ago and now you're married?" Leauna shouted simultaneously.

"Take it easy, Bones," Kirk said. "We're not married yet. We have what I've taken to calling a pre-marriage bond. It gives me a steady stream of mental energy to keep me going, while not having the permanence."

McCoy looked to Spock, who remained silent, although a pallor of hurt now shaded his face.

"I never enter into things like love and marriage lightly, Doctor," he said, not looking up.

"I'm sure that's not what Bones was implying," Kirk said, lightly stroking Spock's arm.

"He's right, I'm just not used to things like this happening...so fast," McCoy provided. “Especially when…don’t you want to see what happens with Aesina first?”

The comm whistle sounded and McCoy groaned. This conversation was not at all going like he had envisioned it, and he was sure his friends felt the same. He hoped this respite would allow him to school his embarrassment and continue in a better mood. The captain spoke briefly with Uhura and patched through the video call, allowing the familiar face of the healer T'Remberale to fill the screen. Spock stiffened at the sight, but gathered himself quickly.

"Good evening, Doctor McCoy," she said with a nod. Her eyes widened when she scanned the room's visitors.

"Spock," she said, clenching her fists. If McCoy had not known Vulcan mannerisms so well, he would not have noticed the gesture. "It is good to see you again. It has been a long time. T'Ra looks well."

McCoy now knew why Spock had been so nervous. This person had been close enough to know his daemon's name, so they obviously had a history.

"T'Remberale," Spock said, raising his hand in the Vulcan salute. "Live long and prosper."

The female Vulcan mirrored the gesture. "Peace and long life. I presume the man beside you is Captain Kirk?"

"Yes," Spock replied.

"It's a pleasure to meet you ma'am," Kirk said while giving his own Vulcan salute.

Her attention turned to Spock. "It appears the melds have been quite effective. I can barely tell he is severed."

Kirk discreetly took his hand. McCoy could not help but notice the gesture, warmed by what he saw. He remained uncomfortable about the speed of this relationship, but seeing genuine happiness from these men warmed his heart.

"I can imagine it was not," T'Remberale said. "Either way, as I told your doctor, I was appraised of the minimum details of your situation, as well as your response to it, but I would like to hear the story from your point of view."

Spock was the one who gave most of the details. Kirk seemed to have difficulty discussing these matters, but did contribute some about what having no daemon felt like. McCoy was listening intently, realizing there were elements of the story he was not terribly familiar with. He had been caught up in fixing the situation, so several details must have escaped him. Another possibility was that he chose to cut himself off.

To his surprise, Spock was the one who told the woman he and Kirk planned to be married, and this was why there was a marked improvement as of late. He was still tight-lipped about the "breakdown" that led them to this point.

"I am pleased to hear you have found a mate, Spock," T'Remberale said, sounding sincere. "Although I will admit these are not ideal circumstances."

"You and me both," Kirk provided.

"Either way," T'Remberale continued. "I know you are still looking for Aesina, but you seem confident you are going to get her back from her Xarth kidnappers. I agree they will have to emerge sometime soon. Either way, I would like to meet with all of you as soon as possible. I would like to gauge the captain's psychic energy, and the broken bond. This will help me determine the best course of action to take."

Kirk looked like he could barely contain his excitement. "So, you think you can help me?"

"I will have to meet with you to know for sure, but I am quite certain something can be done to reunite yourself and your daemon."

McCoy furrowed his brow. Her answer was vague - too vague for a Vulcan. Still, he felt he could not put a damper on Kirk's apparent enthusiasm, and it was logical not to give a more detailed answer before meeting with Jim in person.

"Starbase 16 is about two days away at warp 2. I'll make arrangements with the Admiralty, which I'm sure they will accept pending any crises. We have had quite an active week, so I'm pretty sure we're due to make a stop."

"I will clear my schedule. Thank you, captain."

~~~~~~~~

The connection cut, and T'Remberale let out a breath, hoping against hope those on the other side recognized something in her demeanor which told them to stay away. Particularly Spock.

"Well done," came the hated voice from her side. T'Remberale looked at the Xarth woman with the stolen daemon. She put as much hatred as she could behind the look. It was all she could do.

"We almost believed you," the daemon said.

"Aesina," she said, pleading. "You cannot possibly..."

"Her name is Bathsheba!" D’Lana snapped. "And I think you know the etiquette regarding the engagement of other's daemons."

"She. Is. Not. Yours." T'Remberale said through gritted teeth. She knew an emotional release would not do any good, but it made her feel better.

"I think it's time for you to join your husband. I would like to remind you we still have weapons on him, as well as T'Luminar."

Again, the desire to attack was great, but T'Remberale thought of her family first. D’Lana had proved the telepathic hold she had on her henchmen. She could simply project one thought and they would do her bidding. Once the henchmen reacted, the Romulans in her employ would follow suit, using the dreaded disruptors. D’Lana might not be able to take over the mind of Vulcans, but she still knew how to control them. Not for the first time, the healer cursed her decision to live separately from the Starbase and set her own schedule. No one would know something was amiss for at least a couple weeks, unless by some miracle she was needed.

By then, it would be too late for the men from the Enterprise.

T'Remberale stood and allowed herself to be escorted out of her office by two large Romulans. She was taken through her living room into the bedroom where Strom and T'Luminar were sitting on the bed looking to the floor. Their hands were joined, giving each other a subtle comfort.

Neither looked up to meet her gaze, not that she blamed them. They were disappointed in her. They both expressed hatred toward D’Lana's plans, and expressed the illogic of bowing to whims of an insane woman with no regard for life. T'Luminar was willing to offer her life for such a cause, as was Strom, but T'Remberale could not accept that. She could not lose her bondmate or her daughter. She justified her actions by saying they could more easily overcome their captors with the help of the Enterprise.

But what if they could not? Had she lied to one of her most promising students and lured a Federation Starship into a trap that could put the planet in jeopardy? Possibly the entire Federation?

It was times like this when T’Remberale wondered if the Vulcan bond was a curse more than a blessing. Being willing to invite grave danger in service to your mate was not logical.

She approached her family, allowing herself to spare a glance at the three armed guards aiming their weapons right at them. She sat on the bed, and attempted to gauge their feelings, but their mental shields were up. T'Remberale told herself it was because they wanted to protect their minds from D’Lana's invasion, but she knew there was an element of keeping her out as well.

"Are they coming?" Strom asked in monotone, not looking at her.

"Yes," T'Remberale said in barely a whisper. She was thankful he allowed her to place her forehead on her shoulder and softly cry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bathsheba always hated this part of the day. It was boring watching D’Lana in the bed with Chavek, writhing around and moaning as if they were in pain. Though she received the occasional surge on pleasure, there was nothing for her to do but think. Or not think. D’Lana did not let her think. Instead, she called it pondering.

She still did not understand why, after working so hard to separate her from James Kirk, there was such a rush to get him back. D’Lana assured her it was necessary to convince the Xarth, but then why did they not keep him in the first place? Bathsheba had no desire to see the man again, especially with what D’Lana said about him. Why would she want to come near a perverted, egomaniac when she had D’Lana? Despite the mysteries of her thought process, they belonged together.

Bathsheba could not remember having to work this hard to understand a parent. She also could not remember being so miserable. She put on a brave face for D’Lana - she did rescue her after all - but there was something missing. She could not for the life of her recall what James Kirk had done to her to feed this discontent. She wished she could. The information could help D’Lana be a better partner to her.

Incompleteness was all she was sure of. Bathsheba knew dependence was her lot in life. There was no way she could exist as a separate entity. Just as the physical beings needed food and water, she - as a physical manifestation of psychic energy - needed her Source. A mental source. Without it, she would fade into nothing. Yet, despite getting her basic needs met through D’Lana, there was still a deep emptiness within which called for something more.

//Spock...//

Bathsheba jumped to her feet. There is was again. The faint echo of a voice, and a weak wave flowing through her. This time it was different. Love.. It had not been strong enough to register with D’Lana, but she had been receiving flickers on the edge of her consciousness. Up until recently, the feelings had been unpleasant, but now they were much more welcoming. She wanted to be a part of whatever this was. Although it called to her, the name addressing her was different. Was it her true name - the name she had before?

"Bathsheba!" D’Lana called. Startled to attention, Bathsheba realized D’Lana had completed the required coitus with her officer and was refitting her robes. The Romulan had apparently gone to sleep, and D’Lana was quite relieved. She secretly hated the man. The situation only seemed to cause misery, which drew Bathsheba to the loving flicker all the more.

"You are receiving psychic signals from James Kirk," D’Lana growled.

Bathsheba widen her eyes. "How did you know?"

Her partner sighed, rolling her eyes. She always got this way after sex, and Bathsheba did not like it one bit.

"I know everything you know. I know you contemplated leaving me."

"Never!" Bathsheba shouted immediately.

"Good, because we both know James Kirk is not yours. He is not a good man. You need to tell me if you feel anything like this ever again."

She nodded. "I will, but I thought the link was completely severed?"

"You have been asking too many questions lately," D’Lana said angrily. "The link was severed, but there is still a psychic connection. This is why his death would lead to yours. I'm not sure why this is, but I have been trying to find ways to break it so you can be truly free. He has been bonding with another telepath, and I am sure this is giving him the ability to reach out and try to take you back. When the captain comes to us, we will make sure he does not bother you again."

"But I thought we needed him."

"We do. You would die if he died, but I will attempt to nullify his ability to utilize the psychic link. Chavek wants his telepath friend, so it should be made all the more easier."

"Spock? Yes, I heard that name through the connection."

"Did you?" D’Lana seemed to relax and Bathsheba followed suit. It was always exhausting when her partner was miserable and angry, which seemed to be happening more lately. The psychic energy she had to expel, dealing with the Romulans, and planning for her future conquests were taking a toll. There was also a more deep-seated pain which she had not yet revealed. It was painful to have such things hidden, but Bathsheba was sure D’Lana had her reasons.

"Well, they will be arriving tomorrow. We must make final preparations before our friend here decides he needs another go."

"Why do you have sex with him if you hate it so much?"

D’Lana rose from the bed and projected the subject was closed. Bathsheba was unsatisfied, but made herself content with what she had. D’Lana was right, there was no time to think on such things. She honestly did not know how she would react when she saw Leonard McCoy again, but she swore she would mentally prepare herself so it was not love he saw. She was no longer his, and he would know that.


	12. Trap

Beaming down to Starbase 16 was always a treat for Spock, with or without an important rendezvous. It had some of the finest science labs run by humans, and although he was often loathe to admit it, the human methods of experimentation utilized here worked better than many Vulcan methods. It was here the transporter code was revised to accommodate daemons, and the beginnings of a cure for an Andorian ailment similar to Terran HIV was being studied.

He would not be visiting any of the labs, however. Spock looked to either side of him to see both his best friend and his lover trying to school their tension. It was far easier for Spock since he had years of practice, but he also knew they had no one to impress here.

The welcoming atrium of the base was shaped like a circle and was lined with several shops and restaurants. A diversity of humanoid species perused the offerings, but the crowd was small – an unusual sight for this time of the planet’s year.

“Dad!!” Came a familiar female voice. In an instant, Joanna McCoy ran into her father’s arms, while her daemon and Leuana romped and played on the ground.

“Oh God, Jo, have you grown a foot since I last saw you?”

Spock raised an eyebrow at the comment since Joanna looked the same height she did when she left the Enterprise, but he suspected this was not the purpose when her daemon playfully swiped her paw at Leauna’s face. “You always say that. It’s getting old.”

“Well, maybe that massive brain of yours adds to your height.” McCoy patted the girl on the head and mussed up her light blue pixie-cut. “What did you do to your hair? Did one of your experiments go horribly wrong? Wasn’t it red last week?”

“This is what happens when you go down on your Andorian roommate while he’s drunk.”

McCoy cringed. “Oh God, Jo! What do you want to make my eyes bleed?”

“Oh, you know that didn’t happen. My roommate’s a she. You know I get the purple spunk when I go down on her.”

“That’s it. Come ‘ere, you!”

The doctor gave his daughter another bear hug and gave her a long kiss on the cheek.

Spock allowed himself a half-smile at McCoy’s reunion with his daughter, although he did feel a pang of regret for not allowing his own mother to have such moments with him.

During their affection, Joanna caught a look at Kirk. Her face fell slightly and she tried to replace it with a large smile. However, both Spock and Kirk saw the hesitation.

“Uncle Jim!” She said as she ran to the captain. Kirk returned the hug, which was much more subdued. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Kirk sighed. “It looks like I have you to thank for this meeting we’re having?”

“Oh no, I didn’t do anything. The Professor came to me to just get Dad’s number.”

As the two conversed, T’Ra looked around again at the sparsely populated square. Considering it was a work day, the emptiness bothered Spock more and more.

“Why are there so few people here today?”

Joanna giggled. “It’s nice to see you too, Spock.”

“Come to think of it,” McCoy said. “I was thinking the same time. Shouldn’t you be in class? Is there some holiday going on?”

“No,” Joanna sighed. “There were Romulan’s detected nearby, so most everyone is at their posts. They had to cancel classes so the professors could go, too. Apparently it happens all the time.”

“All the time? What the hell?”

“Yeah. The Federation let the Romulans use the nearby space after the Narada. Some sort of prevention thing so they could prepare for the planet being destroyed. If one of them strays from the path, there is an alert. Usually it is some newbie getting lost.”

McCoy put a hand through his hair. “Why didn’t anyone tell me there were Romulans flying around my daughter’s school?”

“It’s not exactly something they make public, Dad. Chill. You have a meeting to get to anyway. I went ahead and arranged a hovercar to get you to T’Remberale’s house, which is out in the middle of nowhere by the mountains.”

McCoy’s body language reflected he desperately wanted to rant for another hour, but there was no time. “Are you coming with us?”

“No, T’Rem didn’t want me to. She said I should work on my research project instead.”

“T’Rem? She let you give her a nickname?”

“Indeed, Doctor,” Spock said. “She allowed such things when I knew her as well, although this is rare among Vulcans.”

“Be that as it may, I’m gonna tell Scotty to beam you aboard the Enterprise until we leave.”

“What?! Dad…!”

“No buts! You don’t have class, so you won’t be missing much. You’ll be far safer up there than down here where the defenses are minimal.”

“I thought you said space was ‘death and darkness and silence’ or whatever.”

While McCoy and his daughter exchanged words, Spock glanced to his side to look at his lover, who had been uncharacteristically silent. Kirk had not been off the ship since he was severed, and even the small crowds in the square were causing visible nervousness. Based on the signals from the human’s mind, these were primarily self-conscious in nature. T’Ra moved to Kirk’s shoulder in order to help him fell less exposed, which caused Joanna to step back in confusion.

Spock flushed slightly since Joanna likely did not know about their romantic relationship, and T’Ra’s gesture was probably strange to her. Once he saw that Joanna had relented to her father’s wishes, Spock cut the conversation short.

“Thank you for your efforts, Joanna, but I am afraid we must leave.”

“I…okay. I’ll see you on the ship, Dad.” The teenager’s voice still contained resentment.

“We should be back in a couple hours,” McCoy said before giving his daughter one last hug.

“Oh, and before I forget,” Joanna dug through her small purse and pulled out black plastic box the size of a wallet and turned to Kirk again. “If you get worse off again, this should help a bit.”

Kirk took the package in confusion. He pressed a button and it opened like a matchbox, exposing two miniature hypos.

“Ambizine?” Kirk asked.

“Honey, where did you get that?” McCoy said. “You need a prescription for those. It’s dangerous.”

Joanna rolled her eyes. “I got it when I was going to go on vacation in Betazed, remember?”

McCoy thought for a moment. “The one you were going to with that piece of shit, Ryan before he cheated on you?”

Joanna groaned as a blush crept up her face. “You didn’t have to tell them the whole story. Anyway, it’s been helping the colonists if they get too lost in their thoughts. If you have any mind issues, that should help.”

Kirk glanced at Spock, allowing the security of their eye contact to warm him like a balm. Kirk did not anticipate any more trips to the abyss anytime soon, but he clipped the gift on his belt anyway.

“Thanks, Jo. This was really thoughtful.”

“Thanks, I didn’t think you would have any on the ship, at least in a size you could clip to your belt.”

McCoy grunted at this as Joanna stomped to the transporter pad.

Kirk did not hesitate to walk toward the aircar Joanna chose for them, hoping to get out of the open air as soon as possible. When they reached their destination, Spock felt the tension return. The fear of seeing his old friend was replaced by concern about how promising this treatment was. He reminded himself this was not their only chance. There could be other ways to make Kirk whole again. Spock had to admit, though, that this was the best chance they had. Spock was not biased on his knowledge that there were no other beings in the known galaxy with better knowledge of the soul the kator-dva healer.

The three friends exchanged no words. Through their bond, Kirk was expressing similar anticipation and fear. Even with this possibility, it would be for naught it Aesina was not found. They had assumed over the past weeks she was within reach, but this was not a guarantee.

The automated aircar trip was short - only twenty point two-five minutes. It felt like a lifetime. They disembarked with the doctor in the lead and his two friends behind. Kirk could not bring himself to unclasp his hand from Spock's. The Vulcan did not object.

"Spock," Kirk said, stopping them both. They were about a hundred feet from the front door of the traditional Vulcan abode nestled in the foot of a mountain. The main buildings of the Starbase were mere dots on the horizon, and there was not another house in sight.

"I know, Jim," Spock said, giving his lover's hand a squeeze. "If this changes things, I assure you it cannot be for the worse."

"I'm gonna feel pretty stupid if I'm worrying myself into a tizzy for nothing. What if she says...there's no hope?"

"Then we will find another way," Spock said softly as he placed a kiss to Kirk's forehead.

"Gentlemen," McCoy said. "You’ll have plenty of time to bone each other when you get back to the ship."

As a group, they made their way to the foyer and knocked on the door. It took less than a second for the door to open, revealing T'Remberale in the flesh. Spock immediately felt dread wash over him. Something was not right. He passed his hesitation on to Kirk. They spared a quick glance at each other and to T'Ra. Her empathic senses were screaming fear and aversion. As well as...glee. But not from T'Remberale.

If his stance was any indication, McCoy sensed it too. Without saying a word to the Vulcan woman, he turned quickly. The look in his eyes prompted Spock and Kirk to turn and look at the three Romulan guards armed with disruptors.

"Why don't you go in?" The tallest Romulan said in a crackly voice.

McCoy immediately reached for his phaser, but then realized he had not brought one. None of them had.

"I'm sorry," T’Remberale said, sounding genuine. "I had to trick you into coming here. I had no choice."

Spock said nothing, but could not keep the anger from his expression. He looked at his former friend. She had been such a strong and independent force in his youth. Now to see her so pitiful and frightened was a shock and disappointment.

He should have known. He should not have let them walk into a trap so easily. He had been so blinded by this hope. This was the same mistake they made when this whole mess first started. Now, it appeared to be how it would end.

~~~~~~~~~~

Once herded inside, Kirk finally allowed himself to feel the emotions he had numbed himself to when they first realized they had walked into a trap. This had been their best chance, and now it was gone. Kirk was not sure what this meant, but the Romulans outside did not appear particularly friendly. Whatever their agenda was, it would not be easy to escape from.

Kirk would not let them have what they were after, this was certain. He could not help but feeling a sense of peace, because he had known love and given it in return. He only wished he could have gotten the chance to marry Spock, and gotten Aesina back from the clutches of...

"D’Lana!" McCoy said with a low voice.

Kirk looked up, and indeed there was the yellow-skinned woman who had been the object of his hatred for three long months. She was flanked by Dr. Weinburg, a Romulan, and....Aesina.

His eyes went wide, his throat closed, and his heart gave a nervous flutter. Here, after so long, was his beloved Aesina. She looked the same, if not a little more stiff. She was looking straight up toward D’Lana, and seemed to be avoiding eye contact with him. She did not look sick, but not at full health either. No longer were they separated by light years. Things were now as it was meant to be...almost. They had no bond. They could not truly touch unless they found a way to reconstitute the connection, which now seemed far more remote.

Kirk gave into his first instinct and lunged toward her, but was stopped by a muscular Romulan throwing his arms around his chest. Kirk fought, desperate to get within arm's reach of the other half of himself, but it was no use. Spock projected calm through the bond, but Kirk blocked it. The last thing he wanted was restraint.

"Jim," McCoy said, half pleading and half expressing sympathy.

"How wonderful it is to see you all again," D’Lana said, with enough false cheer to make all of their skin crawl. Leauna leapt from McCoy’s side toward their enemy, but D’Lana quickly grabbed her and threw her against an adjacent wall. The action made McCoy scream and collapse to the ground.

"I have grown far less tolerant of your little friends," D’Lana said. "Although, they are quite pleasant when retrained, like Bathsheba."

When Kirk realized she was referring to Aesina, his anger exploded. "You renamed my daemon after a fucking Old Testament whore?"

"She can call me whatever she wants," Aesina said as loud as her tiny voice could project. "I am hers, not yours."

Kirk's heart fell. That voice - the voice he knew so intimately - now rejecting him. Obviously, there had been some telepathic control at play, but this knowledge did not ease the sting, nor did his lover's silent support. Kirk slumped against the Romulan holding him, allowing the old despair to come roaring back.

He looked to his lover and saw there were two Romulans clutching onto his arms so hard, his hands were turning a dark green. He kept the same unflinching facial expression he always had in these situations, but Kirk felt the sympathetic anger radiating from him. That intricate brain of his was already weaving a plan to escape, but the emotions surging both from himself and Spock were muddling the process.

"I see you two have been having some fun since we last saw you," D’Lana commented. "How sweet. You have lovely little bond between you. Sharing a daemon I see. Now, that's cheating isn't it? How can humans expect to start life without daemons if these pesky telepaths won't, as you humans say, take off the training wheels?"

"What about him?" Kirk said through gritted teeth, nodding toward Dr. Weinburg. "It looks to me like you're still controlling him."

"His wife has died, and he is unwilling to break our connection. Sad really. None of the other humans I cut seem to be doing it either."

"You sick fuck!" Kirk shouted, again beginning to struggle. "You're even crazier than before! They're not recovering because they have no soul!"

D’Lana again gave a dark smile. "You see, Bathsheba? You see what I got you away from."

"Yes, I can see it now," the daemon said.

Kirk did not think his heart could break anymore than it had, but he was wrong. "Aesina," he pleaded. "She's manipulating you. You have to..."

"Shut up!" D’Lana shouted.

"Why are you so afraid to have Jim talk to her?" Spock said in a voice which barely contained its fury.

"I fear nothing," D’Lana said. "You on the other hand are scared your little human concubine will not need you anymore. It was genius really. Swooping in while he was at his weakest and acting like a savior. It was an expert manipulation. Humans are so easy to claim once you know what to do."

"You don't know anything," Kirk growled.

D’Lana turned to the younger man. "Oh, don't I? I know you have been using your new telepathic boyfriend to try and reach my daemon."

"What the..."

"You have not only been coddled by the Vulcan, but are also trying to pull back what is no longer yours to have. Don't worry, I'll show you how to really be free, and then we will go to my people."

"Hold it, are you..."

"But first, we have to get rid of this pesky little link. Can't be cheating, can we?"

Before Kirk could react, D’Lana touched his face, and he felt the beautiful intricate connection had had developed with Spock snap.


	13. Awake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been neglecting my chapter posting over the past several weeks. I'm going to make up for it by posting a chapter a day until the end (let's hope work doesn't start kicking my butt again). The next few chapters are going to be rough, so I hope the speed helps.

"Jim!"

Spock and T'Ra shouted in unison as the link broke. The impact caused Spock to collapse to the ground as pain shot through his head. He tried to reach out telepathically, but his senses were stunned by the blunt force of separation. He could barely talk to his own daemon.

T'Ra was equally as affected. Her first instinct was to fly toward Kirk, but he did not even acknowledge her presence. His eyes were glazed over and his body was stiff and limp, just as he had been when they found him lying in the hanger three months ago. Kirk was once again lost in the darkness of his mind. She tried to touch him, but a hard boot kicked her back toward Spock. The Romulan member of D’Lana's entourage now stood between them and the doctor.

"You're mine now, Commander Spock. You and your doctor."

Spock’s mind and eyes were on Kirk, who was now being attended to by D’Lana. She was positioned in a way which blocked Aesina from getting too close. Based on the concentration in her eyes, she must have been attempting to form a telepathic link with him. The idea filled Spock with rage.

Not only did this woman take his lover's soul, but she wanted his mind. She sought to destroy the beauty that was James Kirk by taking his free choice. Had this man not suffered enough? She had not right to enter his head. She would treat it like her garbage heap. The mind deserved to be treasured and loved.

"T'hy'la," Spock said, using the word he had not dared speak up until now. This word represented such deep feelings that he had doubted he would ever be able to say it out loud. Now he knew he meant it with all his heart. Spock pounced, trying to get to his lover before his mind could be corrupted, but he was stopped again by the large Romulan. A bony hand grabbed Spock by the collar and lifted him to his feet.

"Allow me to introduce myself," he said. "I am Chavek. I am a military commander on the Romulan planet."

Spock wrapped his arms around Chavek's in an effort to get free, but the two guards recaptured his arms within a second. The cold, dirty feeling inside indicated someone had grabbed T'Ra.

"I can see you are not in the mood to talk right now. Your doctor is currently being taken to our makeshift brig, where he should be waking up soon. You will be joining him. And don't do anything foolish." Chavek unsheathed a sword with a purple blade. "I am not planning on using this until the appointed time, but I am not above changing my plans."

Spock stiffened when he saw the sword was Olomite, and this man could easily break their daemon bond with a flick of the wrist.

"We are not leaving without Jim."

"He is in good hands," said D’Lana, who was leading Kirk by the elbow. The captain looked dazed, as if he were under the influence of narcotics or suffering from a seizure.

//How much of this can one mind take?// Spock asked himself.

"Well Chavek, he's yours now and you're welcome to him."

"Excellent," said Chavek, giving a ghost of a smile.

The next thing Spock knew, he was being thrown to the ground in one of the adjacent rooms. Immediately, the door shut with a metallic crash. The smell and ambiance were that of a Vulcan bedroom.

Spock looked to his right to see McCoy coming to himself. He had been unceremoniously deposited on the floor just as Spock had. He looked shaken, but otherwise healthy. Spock turned his head toward the bed, where T'Remberale sat hunched over with her face to the floor. A man and a female adolescent Vulcan sat in similar positions perpendicular to her. They were facing a pair of Romulans armed with disruptors.

There was an immediate desire to lash out at his old friend, but to do so would be pointless. Spock knew the two fellow Vulcans were her family. Their bond, while strained, could be felt from across the room. T’Remerbale had been desperate. D’Lana would have fulfilled their mission with or without her.

"T'Remberale," Spock said softly. He barely got her name out before a guard snapped at him to remain quiet. Spock looked to McCoy, who was still getting his breathing under control. Spock realized why when the doctor subtly slid a hand toward him. McCoy hated telepathic communication, but desperate times demanded it. Leauna came between them and T'Ra followed suit. McCoy took his daemon's back hoof and Spock touched a talon while the daemons came in contact.

//Where the hell is Jim?// McCoy asked. The question was faint, which was to be expected when their touch had to be so subtle.

//D’Lana broke our bond// Spock said, allowing his anger to flow between them. //She has taken him. I do not know what plans she has beyond this.//

//Does this woman get off on doing this?//

//Ours was not a permanent bond, but there will likely be psychic damage. The Romulan Chavek will be taking us, and I can only assume we will meet the same fate as Jim.//

//What makes you say that?//

//He had a sword made of Olomite sheathed at his side.//

//Shit.// McCoy said, trying to hide his reaction from the guards, although he suspected they were not the sharpest knives in the Romulan drawer. Most of their countrymen, while devious, were not so quick to violence. //Is Jim the way he was...before?//

//D’Lana took control of his mind immediately, but I could tell he was not at full capacity. I do not know how she is intending to use him in her favor. All I know is that staying here is not an option.//

//Spock, I'm so...//

//Please do not apologize, Doctor. We must focus on our current predicament.//

//But I…forget it. How did this space bitch get Romulans on her side?//

//I do not know. What they are planning to use us for is likely more foolproof than her plans. Although she has committed horrible atrocities, she is essentially alone. She sought help in completing her plans, and an ambitious Romulan soldier simply used her knowledge to his advantage.//

//So the Romulans know about Olomite. That means we're pretty much fucked. Whether we want to admit it or not, daemons are a weakness in battle.//

//As far as we know, only Chavek and his men know about Olomite, so we have to find some way to stop him from relaying the information, or using us as a demonstration.//

//Are you suggesting we kill him?//

//If we must. This could cost billions of lives if passed on to Romulan hands.//

McCoy was silent, then said, //You want to include her in our plans?// The doctor tilted his head toward T'Remberale.

The Vulcan woman took this as an invitation. She slid off the bed, her gaze turned slightly toward the guards. They watched here warily, but did not say anything. She positioned herself so they could see her mouth, but could not see her touch Spock's free hand. The moment the touch was initiated, thoughts frantically spilled out of her. Spock tried his best not to look overwhelmed.

//Spock I'm so sorry I was desperate I did not mean for this to happen I was forced to do this they were going to kill my family!//

//T'Rem!// Spock mentally shouted. //I am distressed at this situation and your participation in it, but this cannot be our focus. The doctor and I were discussing the ramifications this situation could have.//

//I am aware. I am sure they will kill us after this, and then go after your crew. I was unthinking and foolish.//

//Damn right,// McCoy interjected. By now Spock was allowing his old friend's thoughts to go between the three of them. //Not only that, but you brought my daughter into this. She practically worships you.//

//I know. I am so…//

//I don’t want to hear it. You're a Vulcan, so we’re going to need your help to reason out of this.//

//Of course.//

//We need to both stop the Romulans and D’Lana in one swoop.//

//It would be illogical to focus on D’Lana,// Came a different voice. T'Remberale projected it was her bondmate, who was still sitting idle with their daughter. //She is inconsequential. She will not succeed in her plans without the Romulans.//

//They have Jim,// said Spock.

//It is this sort of emotionalism which caused our predicament to get this far. Keeping one man captive does not constitute a crisis.//

//Strom, her people might pose great danger for the Federation if Captain Kirk assists them,// T'Remberale said.

//Yes, she might cause problems, but it is not our immediate concern. There will certainly be a problem if we allow the Romulans to have this technology.//

//You’re right, Strom,// McCoy said, causing Spock to exude distress. //We can't do anything about Jim now.//

//Doctor...//

//D’Lana is preparing to leave, I'm sure. We now know exactly where she is going – her planet. We'll go after her and take this Chavek character with us. If we don’t he might use that damn sword on the people on this planet…or the people on the ship, and he won’t stop there.//

//Leonard,// was all Spock could project. He wanted badly to protest, but McCoy's logic was sound. For the first time in their friendship, their roles were reversed.

~~~~~~~~~~

Dr. Weinburg hated himself. He hated his life. He hated what he had become. He was not sure how he arrived at this point, or how he allowed the woman who killed his wife to consume him so completely.

He had not heard anything from Zoey since their separation, yet there she stood, always on his shoulder. The touch was comforting in a way, but it was not enough. He needed more. He did not realize his predicament until he started having mysterious dreams, where something that looked like an Oriental dragon image came to him and spoke on simple sentence:

D’Lana must be stopped.

For some reason, this did not occur to him until the dreams began. After three nights, he drifted out of his months-long stupor and saw with clear eyes what he had been doing. When D’Lana finally assimilated the monkey, she did not allow him speech any longer. He could not offer her advice like he used to, although such words did not feel like his own. Now, there was a mental block that made every order she gave him Gospel. There was a hole in such control, though. When she was not speaking, he could think for himself.

He did not at first, because it took effort to collect his thoughts and tap into what he once was. The dragon changed that. He seemed to give him the strength to see past where he was being led. Now that he knew, all he wanted was to shoot himself out of an airlock.

But Weinburg knew he could not do that. He had to make up for his crimes. The man D’Lana brought aboard the ship did not deserve what was coming to him - what he had helped bring to pass. Now he had to make it right, but he was not sure how.

The ship was now in initial take-off phase. He stood near the back of the bridge while D’Lana and the doctor went into the back. The lady looked quite smug. She had won after all, or at least she thought she did.

Weinburg scanned the bridge, hoping for something to divert her with. The dragon was right. She had to be stopped. If this specific scheme did not work, she would find another and cause even more destruction.

His eyes stopped on the circular object impaled on a cone. The cloaking device. He was not an engineer, but Weinburg was familiar with Romulan technology. Just like human devices, there were similarities between every piece of machinery made. Humans took these similarities for granted, just like Romulans did.

Weinburg slowly walked to the device, careful to check the faces of the Xarth who monitored the bridge. After expending her energy for so long, D’Lana no longer had enough power to make them fully alert, so they were not looking at him or what he was about to do. He slipped a knife from the belt of the oblivious helmsman. Once he reached the cloaking device, he scanned the wires which connected to the bridge functions. There was only one he wanted to find. It was wispy and silver, and contrasted with the other wires despite being gathered with them. He quickly cut the fiber with his knife and was thrown backwards by the electrical force.

The bridge crew remained oblivious.

~~~~~~~~~~

Montgomery Scott had no interest in being a captain of a ship. He liked being behind the scenes. Diplomacy was never his forte, and crises not involving engines tended to put undue stress on him. Bronwyn buzzed in his ear, whispering reminders about what the next bridge check would have to be. He was thankful his daemon had the small honey bee shape, because he had a concrete way to keep him on task without being too conspicuous.

The captain, Spock, and McCoy had been down on the planet for about two hours now. This had been the first time they had taken a landing party together since Cerebus II. Scotty gulped. Even the mention of the planet’s name made him sick to his stomach.

"Lt. Uhura," he said to the dark woman behind him. "Make a call to the captain. I would like to make sure everything is all right."

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

Scotty turned to look at her. She had a warm smile, and her crowned hornbill daemon looking as relaxed as he ever looked.

"Granted," he said warily.

"You are not the captain's mother. He might get a little miffed if you are acting like one."

Scotty could not help the grin which spread across his face. This woman always knew how to make him smile, even when chiding him on the bridge. "Well, I think I have the right to be a little worried considering what’s happened.”

Uhura’s eyes glistened at this. Neither she nor Scotty had visited with Kirk socially since he was severed. Neither had the strength to see him in his current state, despite them supposedly being his friends. The least they could do was watch his back.

Uhura turned and made the call. After at least a minute of trying to make the connection, no signal was found. She tried contacting both Spock and McCoy’s communicators, too, but they were just as dead.

"Commander," Sulu said. "A craft just uncloaked as they left the planet's atmosphere."

Scotty's ears perked up. "Romulan warbird?"

"No. It's...I can't believe it. It's the silver ship. The one we have been looking for, sir."

"The Xarth ship? Bloody hell!" Scotty turned the chair toward the screen at light speed. "Grab them with a tractor beam before they can warp out of here." He turned to Uhura. "Call Commander Giotto. Mr. Chekov, scan the planet and look for our men."

~~~~~~~~~~

"Why did we uncloak?" D’Lana shouted, practically screaming into the communicator from her cabin.

Bathsheba flinched at the loud voice. The voices on the speaker said the device had stopped receiving power because the wire had been cut. D’Lana hit the table with her fist and accidentally sent the communication speaker flying across the room, hitting the wall next to James Kirk's head. The man flinched and fell to his knees.

D’Lana grabbed her hair and attempted to calm herself down. "Bathsheba," she said. "I am going to the bridge to work this out. You stay here and watch our captain. He should be alright, but holler if you see anything unusual. I will not have the extra brainpower to attend to him completely."

"Of course," Bathsheba answered before her partner ran out the door. She was shell shocked at how distracted D’Lana was. Initially, she was forbidden to be around James Kirk for fear he would hurt her again. True, D’Lana would be close, but Bathsheba was still frightened of what could happen. The captain had not said a word since they had broken his connection with the Vulcan, and this should have taken care of anything he could do to her from a distance. The admonishment she delivered while on the planet made him angry, and this could make him angry enough to physically harm her.

She spared a glance in his direction, and saw he was not even looking at her. He was curled in the fetal position and leaning against the wall. This would not do. How could the Xarth people believe D’Lana's message with this pathetic example?

//Go to him.//

Bathsheba flinched. This had been another voice she had heard before, but far less frequently. It sounded like a mental voice, and yet it still felt like normal conversation. While asleep, this voice was accompanied by a creature she thought was called a dragon. All she knew was that it did not scare her. In fact, it felt like a brother. Now it was back, and urging her to see to James Kirk.

"He's going to hurt me," Bathsheba responded, although it sounded quite pitiful coming from her mouth.

//He will not. Go to him. Remind him of the ambizine on his belt.//

"What does that mean?"

//There is medicine on his belt he can use to help.//

"Why would I ask him such a thing, then? Why don't you ask him?"

//This man is very sick. Try as I may, I will not be able to reach him.//

"Who are you?"

//I am as you suspected. I am a brother.//

"Not literally, I presume."

//No, but I sense you trust me.//

Bathsheba pondered this, and agreed. She did trust him. She did not know why, nor why it felt right to disobey D’Lana right now. D’Lana was her everything and had taught her how to be a better friend and daemon. Why would she be doubting her, especially now?

//Look at him. Does he look dangerous?//

The daemon again hesitated, but she looked again at the older man who appeared to be in pain. He was in the same position he had been before, except now he was shaking. Tears were streaming down his face, and he was moving his lips to make inaudible sounds. Bathsheba crept closer, going as slowly as her long legs would allow. As she moved closer, she was able to make out what was being said.

"Spock. Aesina. Spock. Aesina."

Those words were spoken like a mantra under his breath. The words carried so much weight - so much sadness and pain. Bathsheba reminded herself this should not be anything which should deter her. Bad people can experience pain, and often have been shaped by it.

Nonetheless, all the reminders in the world could not stop her from having compassion. She bowed to her first instinct and moved her head to this man's hand and slipped underneath. This calloused, cold palm should not have felt so good. More than good. It felt...right.

"You still have ambizine on your belt," she said, without thinking. Was that wrong? What was she doing? D’Lana would be furious if she discovered her so close to the enemy.

Bathsheba backed away quickly, putting as much distance between herself and James Kirk as the room would allow. Now he was looking at her, and his hand gravitated to his side, where a small black package attached to his belt.

"Aesina," he said in a breathy voice. The tone was reverent, as if in prayer. Bathsheba shook with confusion. She had to maintain perspective. The voice was wrong. This man was dangerous. He would help them on Xarth and then she would be rid of him forever.

Right as she was about to scream, D’Lana rushed in, looking flushed and frightened.

"The Enterprise has seen us. They have us in a tractor beam."

"What?" Bathsheba said, shocked.

"Do not worry. I have the power to fight them. I just need the two of you with me. It will be difficult to maintain the connection if you are too far away."

D’Lana noticed Kirk's change in demeanor and furrowed her brow. He was still looking at Bathsheba, but now his hands were at his sides.

"Come," she called, and Kirk obediently stood and followed them.

When Bathsheba dared to look at the captain again, his hand was once again on the black package.


	14. Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: themes of suicide

Spock sat in the corner, distancing himself from the guards whose attentions were focused on the prisoners. So far, the only reaction these men had was too their charges speaking to each other. They had not yet realized the telepathy which existed between all of them.

It was the Vulcan's duty to scan his surroundings, which was a difficult task due to his shields being neglected for so long. His attention had to be completely on the escape and not on the jagged edges of their broken link scraping against the edge of his mind.

There was only a small bolted window in the room. The door was made of reinforced metal. The walls were completely soundproof, and appeared to be bolstered with steel. This room must have served as a safe room, since Spock found it incredibly unlikely the Romulans made all this in their time here. Safe rooms in Federation standard would be able to block scanners, but not transporter beams. While they could transport out if need be, they would not be found unless exact coordinates were given. It was unfortunate the safety was currently being used against them.

The Romulan guards had taken their communicators and had likely destroyed them. There had to be a way to get a message to the Enterprise. Since this was a place of hiding, it would highly illogical to not have a way to contact the outside world. He had to find this method, and quickly. Chavek could signal them to leave any moment.

T'Ra delivered the information to Leauna, and McCoy joined in the visual scan of the room. There would need to be a thorough search than this, which was not possible with the guards watching them.

"I think we've already established these guys were not at the top of their class," Leauna whispered. "Maybe we could overtake them somehow."

"They have their hands on the disruptor triggers," T'Ra said.

"Well, we have something they don't. Disruptors work on human bodies, but not on daemons."

"That has never been tested."

“It has with phasars. Besides, if we can't get out of this, we're dead anyway, as is T'Remberale. We need to try. I'm sure the family would know where the communicator is."

"If they did, they would have utilized it."

"These are not your everyday Vulcans, and they might not have had to use the safe room before. Starbase 16 is not exactly a hub of violent activity."

Spock looked at T'Ra and then at his friend. He had faith in this man. He would follow him to hell and back if possible.

They nodded in mutual agreement, and their daemons broke free. Leauna scampered to the right of the trio, while T'Ra flew to the left. The guards were startled and immediately shot at the ceiling and walls. Strom and T'Remberale used the split second to grab the necks of two guards in a nerve pinch. They then fell to the ground, leaving the single tattooed Romulan. T'Ra grabbed his long ponytail with her talons while Leauna bit his hand to steal the weapon. The distraction allowed T'Luminar to administer a pinch of her own.

Meanwhile, Spock and McCoy looked at the damage the disruptor beams did to the room. The red curtains had a number of holes, and one of them revealed a com panel. Spock ran for it and ripped the remaining curtain out of the way. T'Remberale joined him, her arms protectively around her daughter.

"Why did you not tell me about this?" Spock said to her.

"This panel does not work. There is no power to it."

Her statement was confirmed with Spock tried to activate the panel with no response.

"These walls are completely soundproof," Strom said, now holding a disruptor. "They will not be able to hear our commotion, but we will not be able to hear them coming."

"Which they should be any moment," McCoy said, picking up a weapon of his own.

"These Romulans are free agents," T'Remberale said. "There should be no reinforcements after they are defeated."

"They have to be defeated first," McCoy said. He quickly stunned the guards as they began to stir. "We have to see what secrets D’Lana shared with them. We can't let any knowledge get back to the Empire."

"Agreed, Doctor. T'Remberale, do you have a battery of any kind?"

"I am sure there are some around here."

"It is best we start looking then."

Spock felt along the side of the com panel to find a way to open it. The unit must have been at least thirty years old and never once used. Even if power did get to the unit, there was no guarantee they could contact the next room, let alone the Enterprise. He finally found the indent to pry the unit open, exposing the jumble of wires indicative of older technology. Spock quickly located the thickest chord and separated it from the others before ripping the wire in two, exposing hundreds of silver threads.

"T'Ra, I hesitate to say this, but..."

"I am the closest power source available," T'Ra finished, taking the chord in her talon and holding it to her stomach.

"Wait a minute," McCoy said as Leauna yanked the chord away with her mouth. "What the hell are you doing?"

"There is no danger to me, Doctor," T'Ra said. "As you know, daemons are made of pure, psychic energy. Although taking all of stores is what we are trying to prevent, I have figured out a way to temporarily expend power when needed."

"And why did we not know about this before?" Leauna asked, still reluctant to return the chord.

"The need never arose, and if it did, we knew you would act illogically," Spock replied, taking the wire back and handing it to his daemon. "Only T'Ra can do this because my Vulcan half allows her to have some mental control over where her own energy goes."

McCoy looked like he wanted to protest further, but relented. Based on their fruitless battery search, they had no other choice.

After four point two minutes of T'Ra channeling energy, the lights in the panel blinked on. Spock immediately went to work orienting himself with the old technology, which was less arduous than he feared. This resembled the com technology they used while in Vulcan primary school and latent memories kicked in rather quickly.

He quickly punched in the code for the Enterprise, and let out a breath when he heard Uhura's voice on the other end. His relief did not last long, because the communications officer sounded obviously fearful.

"Spock!" she shouted. "We're being pulled apart. It has to be coming from the silver ship. We are trying to destroy it, but..."

"The captain is on that ship!" Spock shouted before he could stop himself.

"Mr. Spock," Scotty said, his voice as strained as Uhura's. "The phasars and the photon torpedoes aren't responding, and the ship looks to be stretching in four different directions. Any longer and we'll break apart."

"D’Lana," McCoy growled before slapping his palm on the wall. The doctor’s face had gone white, clearly remembering his daughter’s presence on the ship.

Suddenly, a thought came to Spock. "How did you see the ship, Mr. Scott? We thought they had a cloaking device."

"It doesn't matter! We have minutes left up here! I don't know what trouble you've gotten yourselves into, but I have to leave you on your own."

Spock looked to the doctor, whose face betrayed his despair. Spock lifted a hand to place on McCoy’s shoulder, but was interrupted but the front door opening, revealing Chavek and several henchmen.

“Don’t kill the humans. We need their daemons!” Chavek shouted.

Strom aimed his weapon, but Chavek was too fast and shot a disruptor beam at full power. The Vulcan let out a blood curdling scream and fell to the floor.

"No!" T'Remberale screamed before collapsing to her knees in pain, both physical and mental. McCoy aimed his own disruptor, but one of the guards stunned him, leaving only the unarmed prisoners intact. Spock pulled his friend and her daughter close to him, blatantly breaking Vulcan decorum.

"I'm glad you had a little bit of fight left in you," sneered Chavek. "It will make your capture all the more satisfying." He unsheathed his sword. "Spock, I believe you and your captain have an appointment with my Emperor."

~~~~~~~~~~

It was foggy, and Kirk did not know where he was. All he knew was the black med kit on his belt, and the brown monkey less than three feet away.

Aesina.

It had been so long. The moment he felt her head in his palm, everything felt right. There was no need to worry about the future, or why his brain seemed to be making decisions without consent.

The main question on his mind was why she had mentioned the standard emergency med kit. His hand remained on it while he watched the yellow lady concentrate on the view screen. Through the fog, he saw his own ship on the screen.

The Enterprise. Yes. While he was on the Enterprise, he was the captain. He had been on the ship. The last memory he had of the ship was talking with beloved.

Spock. Beloved. The one who sheltered him through the darkness. He had told him...no...they had agreed to pack a medicine he had with him all the time, but was not always refilled. It was for...D’Lana. The yellow lady. Right now, she was the one keeping him upright in the fog, but she was also keeping him away from Aesina. She was not a good lady. Right now, he could feel her strong emotions course through him, and wanted nothing to do with it.

This woman had taken Aesina, and she had taken Spock. The medicine would help get them back.

Kirk opened the pack, and saw the hypo right on top - the one Spock gave him. He pulled it out and studied it.

"D’Lana!"

The woman was turning at the warning shout. He needed to act fast. His mind was telling him to put the spray away, but he would not. D’Lana would no longer take from him again. He ran toward her, and discharged the medicine in her neck. He smiled before everything went black.

~~~~~~~~~

Just as Scotty closed his eyes and prepared to meet God, the shaking stopped. The systems on the bridge whirred to life again, and the shaken crew started to get their bearings. Scotty loosened his vice grip on the captain's armrests, hoping no permanent damage had been done by his fingernails.

"Mr. Sulu," he called. "Get that bloody ship in here."

"But sir..."

"First they mess with the captain's daemon, then they mess with my ship. I'm looking forward to getting a piece of this D’Lana woman." Scotty turned to Uhura. "Did you get the coordinates from the communication with the Commander?"

"Yes sir," Uhura replied, still out of breath.

"Good. Tell Kyle to lock on to every living thing in those coordinates. I'm ready for this bloody day to be over."

~~~~~~~~~~

D’Lana stared at the carnage around her, ready to scream from the unfairness of it all. The damn captain had been carrying a telepathic inhibitor. Why would he be carrying that? How did she not notice?

A voice in the ship's communicator was repeating a spiel about her being under arrest, but she barely heard it. All her crewmen were lying slumped in their seats. Dr. Weinburg remained in the corner, knife protruding from his heart. Behind her, Kirk lay on the ground in an unconscious heap, the empty hypo spray still in his hand. Within centimeters of him was Bathsheba, looking barely alive. The way they lay close together, it was like they were never separated at all.

She grunted in frustration and slammed the captain's chair with her fist before kicking Kirk’s chest. The automatic grunt should have been satisfying, but it only made her more downtrodden. She had failed. Her plans had fallen through, and she would never go to her people. She would never prove to her useless uncle and all those privileged good-for-nothings that she had worth. She would now be a prisoner of the Federation, and likely put in a place where gaining back her powers would be impossible.

D’Lana already had her second chance at being somebody. She had underestimated the relationship between humans and daemons, but she knew her ideas were right. One day, someone would prove it, but it was unlikely she would see it. She would not go into a Federation prison and be an untouchable in yet another world. D’Lana had said her life as an outcast was over, and she meant it.

On impulse, she put the daemon under her arm and grabbed Kirk’s wrist. She dragged them down the hall back into her quarters. She threw Kirk into a corner while she placed her daemon on the couch. No matter what, this being was still beautiful, and spending these months together was worth it. D’Lana allowed herself one more touch on the shining brown fur, although she felt far less electricity under her fingertips.

D’Lana let out a sob. It was not fair. It was not supposed to end this way. She was to live a new life with her daemon and her new world where the humans could not touch them and the lights of Xarth shown again for every citizen. Now this would never happen. Her world would be either be taken by the Federation, or die from its own excess.

Wiping the tears from her eyes, her sadness turned to anger. She looked to Kirk, lying slumped in the corner like an old rag. How he defied her powers was the furthest thing from her mind. All she wanted to do was choke what remaining life was in this man, but that would only .

~~~~~~~~~~~

Joanna sighed with relief once the eight beings materialized on the pad. The coordinates had been vague, but they worked.

"What is the meaning of this?" Chavek shouted, looking around frantically. His guards appeared equally disoriented. Security ran into the room immediately, Scotty on their heels. The Romulans pulled themselves together enough to point their weapons, but security stunned them before they could pull any triggers.

"Put them in the brig," Scotty said. The enemy soldiers we dragged away quickly, leaving three Vulcans and one human alone on the pad. McCoy was just waking up from his powerful stun, rubbing his eyes as Leauna curled close to his side.

“Dad!!” Joanna shouted, her voice cracking. She ran to her father and fell on top of him.

“Ow!...Jo. Jo!”

McCoy did not hide his tears as he threw his arms around his daughter.

“I’m so sorry, Dad.”

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have sent you up here. It was stupid of me.”

Spock's arms remained around T'Remberale and her daughter, the shock on his face apparent. He knew where he was, but still could not move. T'Ra stirred, and took up for him.

"There was another one of us," she said. "Another Vulcan."

Lieutenant Kyle shook his head. "All the living humanoids around your coordinates were beamed aboard."

Spock hung his head, looking devastated. The two Vulcan women by his side were still as statues, leaning on the strong frame of the First Officer. Everything had happened so fast. Now that he had time to process the loss, he could not help but agonize at the futility of his friend’s sacrifice.

"Commander," Scotty said, walking up to the Vulcan with wide eyes.

"Tell Uhura to call the Starbase and sweep the area around T'Remberale's house," Spock said before Scotty could say anything else. "How did you save the ship?"

"Trust me, sir, if I knew, I'd tell you," Scotty said. "Whatever was tearing us apart...just stopped. We managed to get D’Lana's ship in a tractor beam when we got controls back. The craft should be in the shuttle bay right now."

Spock got to his feet as fast as his hangers-on would allow. He led them in the direction on the engineer. He hesitated to set them free due to the deep grief still flowing into him through their touch.

"Mr. Scott, please escort these ladies to the guest quarters. They have had...quite an ordeal."

"So ‘ave you, sir."

Spock nodded in acknowledgement, and looked to the doctor. Joanna’s skinny frame seemed to have no problem supporting the stocky McCoy, who was weakened from the stun but recovering quickly. Spock knew the look on the doctor’s face – gratitude at those he loved being alive, while heartbroken at those who had not survived. All of the people lost during their mission had been good, and did not deserve their fate.

When McCoy recovered enough to stand on his own, he instructed Joanna to stay with T’Remberale while he and Spock went to the shuttle bay. The pair left the transporter room, only allowing seconds to share grief. As with every tragic mission, they had a job to do and a veneer to maintain.

At the shuttle bay, a team of five security officers armed with phasers surrounded the craft. A makeshift hanger had been put in place to support the ship, but it was not a correct fit. Neither McCoy nor Spock cared about maintaining the ship's dignity. After months of searching, they had their prize.

"How do we get inside, sir?" One of the officers asked.

T'Ra flew to the hanger and inspected the bottom. Her sensitive eyes located a small lever, which was hidden from view and labeled with Xarth characters. Based on the location, Spock deduced it was an emergency override. With her beak, T'Ra pulled the lever. Near the apex of the ship, a rectangular opening appeared. McCoy and Spock raced towards it, hearts hammering in their chests.

Spock climbed in first, and emerged in what looked like the bridge. He gulped once he saw the dead body of Dr. Weinburg in the corner, his chest soaked with red blood. He visually scanned the bridge and saw no sign of D’Lana or Leonard. Only Xarth men slumped in chairs after having returned to their comas.

The archway was the only clear exit from the bridge, so Spock darted toward it with T'Ra flying ahead. The first room he saw had a swinging door wide open. The sight that welcomed him was D’Lana hanging dead from the ceiling – a Starfleet-issued black belt around her neck. Behind her, lying on a couch, was Aesina.

Spock clenched his fists to contain his emotions. His Vulcan heart knew he should mourn the loss of any sentient life, so he compromised between his two halves and pretended like the body did not exist. At long last, the daemon was in his reach, so he directed the positive feelings toward this fact. Aesina was intact, although unconscious. Moving further into the room, Kirk became visible. He was propped on a wall, staggering like he was drunk. His belt was missing, but his condition was otherwise unchanged. T'Ra flew over to him at once, and Spock was not far behind.

"Jim?" Spock said soothingly. He placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him, and used the other to gently stroke his cheek. The captain did not answer, but his steady breath was enough. Spock pulled Kirk's body to him, uncaring about who was watching or how this might look.

"I thought I had lost you," Spock said into Kirk's hair. The other man did not say anything, nor did he return the gesture. He was tempted to meld with Kirk immediately to reconstitute the link, but that would be unwise until the condition of the human's mind was determined.

"Spock," McCoy said from behind him. He looked to see the doctor cradling Aesina in his arms. McCoy knelt beside the pair, and Spock reluctantly distanced himself. This reunion had waited long enough.

Kirk placed Aesina in Kirk's lap, and she immediately stirred. Her arm reached out, blindly searching for something Spock could not identify. When she touched Kirk's limp hand, she relaxed, finally having found her prize. The touch injected some life into the limb. The hand glided up the stomach and over the daemon's head. Kirk's other arm lifted to curl around Aesina's body as he leaned forward, curling his whole body around her. The look in his deep blue eyes did not indicate recognition, but the immediate relaxation in his face at least showed something had been made right.

McCoy and Spock looked at each other. While touched and consoled, they both knew this was not a time for celebration. More had to be done to make Kirk complete.


	15. Sacrifice

"Spock," came a weak female voice from the doorway.

McCoy and Spock had been sitting in the same spot for almost ten minutes, unwilling to disturb Kirk and Aesina. Security was sweeping the ship, so they expected to be disturbed at some point. D’Lana's body had already been removed, and the room had been inspected for any hidden threats which could have been smuggled aboard. What he did not expect was T'Remberale, a shell-shocked Joanna standing beside her, refusing to look in her direction.

Spock stood. "You did not have to come here." He said with compassion.

"I will not be able to live with myself if I do not do something to help," T'Remberale replied, her voice barely audible. She already had bags under her eyes and was standing on shaky legs. "T'Luminar has asked to not be around me, and I understand why."

Joanna bit her lip at the statement.

McCoy rose to join his Vulcan friend, allowing Joanna to run into his arms and Ceres to jump on Leauna’s back.

“Don’t hate her, Dad,” Joanna whispered.

McCoy did not respond, instead letting Leauna snort.

Yes, part of him did blame T’Rem, but he knew she had suffered enough. He was sure Spock felt similar. Yet, if McCoy had learned anything about Vulcans in his years of friendship with Spock, the best way they had of coping with tragedy was to work themselves to the bone.

"I would like to offer my services to Captain Kirk," she said. "I was not lying before. I had been working on ways to help both him and the colonists. My work was not complete when I was forced to call you. I now I feel I need to use the information I have no matter how incomplete. I can feel James' condition. He is dying."

Joanna gripped McCoy tighter as he gulped. "How do you know this?"

T"Even from a distance, James’ psychic energy is a cacophony. He has been damaged so many times in such a short period, the dissonance is quite apparent. It will not be long before the confusion spreads to his lower functions."

"I can feel it, too," Spock said, still at Kirk’s side.

"I would suggest reconstituting a link with him so we can have more time to find a solution. I will warn you, though, even with a telepathic link, he will need to be reunited with his daemon for the mind to fully heal."

"I was afraid that...his mind was too weak."

T'Remberale stood beside her friend. “Yes, melding with a damaged mind is not ideal, but it will allow us an opening to make initial repairs so he can survive in the interim."

Spock hung his head. He looked so lost, yet a small glimmer came to his eyes. McCoy had not seen it in a while, and it brought him comfort.

"So, you do think it is possible to reunite the captain with Aesina?"

"I know it is possible."

McCoy looked to Joanna, as if to confirm the truth of this statement. She nodded with a tearful smile. “We had talked about it theoretically in class, but I didn’t want to say anything to you in case it was a bust. I thought…that’s what you all were going to talk about when you....”

"As Joanna said, this is theoretical,” T’Rem interrupted. “Vulcans have united the soul and the body before, but it is an incredibly difficult process. The human katra adds even more complications because of the external nature and sentience. I carry a collective memory of my ancestors who have performed such procedures. Thanks to my research, I am close to fashioning a fal-tor-pan for humans."

"How close?" McCoy asked.

"This discussion will take place after Spock links with James."

Spock nodded in agreement. He crouched to be at eye level with the other man, whose position had not changed.

Spock touched McCoy's meld points, but almost immediately jerked backward. T'Ra let out a rare screech.

"What happened?" McCoy asked, concerned.

"He...rejected me." The voice sounded so small and disoriented.

McCoy tried to make sense of what his friend had said. In Kirk's current state, he should not be able to reject any mind touch. Even if he did, Kirk loved Spock. He saw it in the captain's eyes when he reached a state of near-normal. There was no way such a thing could be bad. Or was there? Could his romantic nature have clouded his judgement? Now that Aesina was back, could Kirk be starting to resent his dependence on Spock?

T'Remberale touched Spock's shoulder and said nothing. She touched Kirk’s face as well, but removed it all too soon.

"Do not think anything of this, Spock," she said. "There are a multitude of reasons this could have happened. Even though they are still separated, Aesina could be signaling vigilance in the captain."

Spock nodded, but did not reply.

"It appears no bond can be established at this time, which means time if of the essence. Though my knowledge of human fal-tor-pan is incomplete, it will have to do. I must reunite James and Aesina within the next three days, or the damage will be irreversible."

"Three days?" McCoy asked, feeling incredibly constricted. "That can't be enough time. Healers have been working with the Cerebus II colonists for months and nothing has worked."

"We must find a way with the resources available, or everything your friend was will be gone."

~~~~~~~~~~

The observation lounge felt oppressively quiet, even to Spock. He had always enjoyed the calm and serenity the space gave him, yet today the emptiness taunted him. Serenity of mind would help him think clearly, but he had not achieved such a thing since he fell in love with a damaged human. Peace was out of his reach. Their window of opportunity was shrinking rapidly, and he was unable to reach the mind of his lover.

T'Ra perched silently in Spock's lap. Their conversations were useless now, because they both were in total sync with their feelings and fears. They had been pushed out of Kirk's mind. The rejection hurt more than anything in Spock's memory. He had been blocked from initiating mind contact before, but this had been a violent reaction by comparison. In the physical plane, it would have been like Kirk brandishing a phasar in reaction to an attempted hug.

"Spock," said T'Remberale from behind him. Spock had not heard her come in. He moved over on the seat to make room, although all he wanted was to be alone. With Kirk's life slipping away, this would not be possible.

"I am sorry," Spock said, realizing he had not yet acknowledged his friend's loss. "I grieve with thee."

"Thank you," she said, clearly using all her willpower to hold herself together. Even if she had gone through traditional Vulcan disciplines, the loss of their planet would make every loss all the more deep.

"I am also sorry for...the circumstances of our parting," he continued. "I should not have been so callous. You were my closest friend, and you deserved better than what I gave you."

T'Remberale was silent, but Spock could not bring himself nor his daemon to look at her.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," she said at last. "I cannot imagine the pressures put on you as a child. It was not until I was older that I realized I pushed you too hard. I did not understand the pervasive Vulcan culture since I was not a part of it. I was not sensitive to what it was like for you to have a daemon in a world full of internal katras. It was not just a question of physicality, but of philosophy. Humans have the luxury of displaying themselves, while Vulcans do not, and those two parts of you were constantly at war."

Spock finally met her gaze. She sat upright as any good Vulcan should, her face a dispassionate mask. Yet her words showed deep sincerity and contrition. Spock's human half wanted badly to offer physical comfort, but their mutual inner turmoil would likely make things worse.

"There are many things I would have done differently," T'Remberale admitted. "Regret is illogical, I know, but unavoidable at moments like this. All I can offer at this moment is to give you back the happiness you deserve - even if I will never have it again."

T'Ra could not stay idle. She hopped to the other Vulcan's side and touched the tip of her beak to her arm. T'Remberale offered a ghost of a smile.

"I am happy you have found peace with your daemon, Spock," she said. "It appears we have both matured in our time apart. I only hope I can offer this to James."

"I concur," Spock said while accepting his daemon back in his lap. "Have your meditations been productive?"

"Yes. I now have a good enough picture of James's mind to reinstitute the connection. However, I am having the same problem others are. There is no sufficient energy source to reconstruct a new bond."

Spock blinked and said, "There are many energy sources on the ship."

"This is not the proper type of energy, Spock. I have no ability to manipulate such power into the spiritual energy needed. Even if I thought it were possible, attaining such skills would take years, and there is still no guarantee it would work."

Spock knew she was right. The energy housed within the bond had no equivalent elsewhere. It could easily be converted into proper force for mechanical purposes, but the opposite was not true. The only way they could construct a new bond was to...use the energy of another bond.

He wanted badly to stop the thought processes this simple fact unleashed. Once he allowed the scenario to play out in his head, he was convinced it was the only way. Yet he could not do it.

//Spock,// T'Ra's voice said, trying to be comforting. She had followed the exact process he did. She knew what he was thinking. Spock expected betrayal at even entertaining the idea, but all he received was understanding. He should not have expected any less.

//You know this is the only solution we have right now.//

//No.// Spock said vehemently. //I cannot lose you. I will not. I have worked too hard to keep you.//

//You will not lose me. The fal-tor-pan will simply bring me into you, freeing up your spiritual energy to give to Jim. You will not experience the same consequences as being severed.//

//But I will be losing you. You will no longer have sentience. It is illogical to destroy one bond to create another.//

//Spock, you and I both know this is not true. For one thing, Vulcans have the ability to live without the external soul, while humans cannot. They do not have the capacity to take it within themselves. Jim needs Aesina. You do not need me.//

//That is not true.// Spock's eyes were watering at this point. Right now, nothing existed but himself and his daemon. //I...need you more than I can describe.//

//Again, you will not lose me.//

//What if Jim still rejects us after all of this?//

//Does it matter?//

Spock's breath caught when he realized it did not. Even if he never saw Jim again, he would still move heaven and earth to save him - just like McCoy said he would.

//Leonard was right after all,// T'Ra continued. //Love is a strong motivator.//

//Stop being glib. You do not realize what you are saying. You will no longer exist as you do now.//

//I know what I am saying. I do not care. You will exist. Jim will exist.//

//T'Ra...// Spock held her close, hugging her in a way he always wanted to. He would give up all his Vulcan nature to stay like this forever. Yes, regret was illogical, but he felt it full force now. He should have never rejected T'Ra. He should have been proud of his humanity, yet he treated her like an enigma for much of their life. He would have given anything to have that time back.

Then there was Jim. Spock knew this was the only way. He had dreams of T'Ra and Aesina touching as he and Kirk made love.

//Spock,// she said, allowing emotion to flow between them at a rapid pace.

//Do not say anything,// Spock whispered. //You are right. You are not leaving me. You are becoming a part of me.//

//So...it is decided?//

Spock had never wanted to curse the universe more than now. This should not have to happen. This choice should not have to be thrust upon him.

//Or you could look at it this way,// T'Ra said. //The forces which control the universe saw fit to place Jim within the path of a Vulcan-human hybrid, allowing him access to the one thing that could safely restore his bond.//

//Such perspective is difficult right now.//

//I know, but it is necessary.//

"Necessary," Spock said out loud. He hated that word more than any other, especially now. It had been the justification for every insult, dirty look, and misery pushed upon him in the name of tradition and logic.

"Are you alright?" T'Remberale asked feebly.

Spock was startled and was suddenly embarrassed that he had forgotten her presence. He wiped the wetness from his face and schooled himself.

"T'Rem," Spock said slowly. He felt like every word - every syllable - of what he was about to say would be a struggle. He held T'Ra close to him.

"Could you...transfer the energy from my bond with T'Ra?"

T'Remberale could not hide her reaction. "Spock. No. The bond would be destroyed. I refuse to trade your life for his."

"Not if you perform a simultaneous fal-tor-pan for me."

Realization dawned in T'Remberale's eyes. She immediately let her Vulcan posture go and slumped on the couch, much like she used to as a younger woman.

"I admit, I can see no other option, but..."

"Then we must perform the ritual as soon as possible."

"Wait, Spock. You must consider this. There is no certainty this will work."

"I am aware, but doing nothing will bring about a certainty I find unacceptable."

"But...Spock. T'Ra..."

"I have made my choice," Spock insisted, knowing he could not leave any time to change his mind. "I am aware you would like to ask Jim's opinion, but he is incapacitated."

"What about your friend? Leonard?"

Spock knew what McCoy would say, and would likely go so far as to make it a medical order for the ritual to not take place.

"Dr. McCoy will not know until after we have restored Jim."

"Spock, please..."

At this, T'Ra chimed in. "T'Rem, this was a mutual decision. We know the consequences. We are fully prepared to accept them."

Knowing Spock's stubbornness better than most, she nodded. There would be no fighting with him when he was this determined.

"Then we must begin as soon as possible," Spock said.

~~~~~~~~~

Leonard was told they were preparing an experimental ritual, but they did not go into the details. The normally curious doctor was thankfully distracted after having almost lost his daughter, so he did not ask any more details. Spock was pained at having to withhold the truth from his friend, especially with all he had done for them. McCoy was encouraged to spend time with Joanna and not worry about Jim at this time. The doctor was all too willing to oblige.

Within the hour, Kirk had been transferred from his room in sickbay to his own quarters. T'Remberale wanted the surroundings to be as familiar as possible when he woke. They lay him on the bed with Aesina resting over his heart.

Spock shivered as T'Rem meditated in preparation for the ritual. His mental anguish was likely not helping her concentration. T'Ra was still in his arms, close to his chest as possible. Though the connecting point for the daemon was the heart, there was a strange comfort in holding her at his chest. Maybe it was because his mother had done so, or because it was the logical place for a daemon to go when being held.

It was not easy to hold her in such a way. Teresh-ka birds did not lend themselves to being cuddled like a selat or a tribble. Still, her softness and loving energy made up for it. Spock tried to commit to memory every sensation between them, and gathered T'Ra's separate memories into his own.

"Spock," said T'Remberale while beckoning him to come closer. His advance resembled a walk to the gallows.

No words were exchanged. None were needed.

T'Rem had Spock sit in a chair next to the bed with enough space between for her to stand on the middle.

"Is there anything you would like to do before we begin?"

T'Ra flew from Spock's arms, causing him to emit an un-Vulcanlike whimper. She landed next to the sedated Kirk, whose eyes were closed and arms were placed carefully around his small monkey daemon. T'Ra closed her eyes and nuzzled his face. She then turned to Aesina and did the same. Spock's heart sank that the two daemons would never meet as lovers.

Spock rose and rubbed one of Aesina’s hands, placing a chaste kiss on the top of her head. He then turned to Jim, whose expressivity and beauty astonished him even now. He placed kisses on his lips, cheeks and eyelids. He savored these touches, because he could not be sure if he would experience anything the same way without T'Ra.

"I love you, my ashayam," Spock whispered. "No matter what happens, that will never change." He then grabbed T'Ra and sat down on a chair, knowing any further delay would only torture him further.

T'Remberale did not waste any time. She placed her hands on both Spock's meld points and Kirk's. She had explained earlier that Spock would need to get a mental hold on the bond's power to make sure it came through the psychic connection. The energy would then go through T'Rem and into Kirk where she would then forge the bond between man and daemon if all went well.

Spock did his part as he felt T'Remberale enter his mind. The touch was gentle and careful, but Spock answered with urgency. He was fully prepared to pour himself completely into the process, but his friend stopped him. Instead, she drew one of his surface memories and enveloped his consciousness in it. His method was used by some healers as a form is anesthesia for the mind. Spock insisted he could help, and did not need any coddling, but was ignored.

In the midst of protesting, Spock was pulled into the memory of him and his mother sitting in his dark bedroom. He knew this day well. It was a week after he and T'Rem had fought in the garden. Amanda had pulled him aside to speak with him privately.

Bayanai normally did not sit so prominently on Amanda, but today he was perched on her shoulder, standing upright on two legs. T'Ra, in contrast, stood at Spock's feet while looking at the floor.

"Spock?" She said, leaning forward. "Are you ashamed of me?"

The younger man's face twitched. "I...no, Mother. Of course not."

"Than why are you so dismissive of T'Ra?"

"I am not..." The younger Spock felt shame course through him at his outburst. He had to gain control. "T'Ra cannot be by my side any longer. I have chosen a Vulcan life, and she cannot be a part of it. This is not a rejection of you. I do not understand why you insist on taking this personally."

"I cannot help but take it personally, Spock."

"I assumed you and Father were in agreement on this course of action."

"We are, but not in the way you have come to understand," Amanda said, taking her son's hand. "Your father cannot admit it, but he does not want you to give up your daemon."

Spock furrowed his brow in confusion. "Then...why?"

"He might not like it, but it is necessary. He does not want you to be in pain while following the Vulcan way. I, however, know you will be in far more pain if you continue on this path."

//T'Rem! Why are you showing me this?//

He was ignored. Seeing no other choice, Spock continued watching.

"This path is the Vulcan way," Spock responded mechanically.

"I know how important it is to you to be Vulcan, and you are more Vulcan than any of those boys who insult you. You are brave and smart, and you will be the finest man on this planet. You achieved this with a daemon by your side. Under the principles of IDIC, this should be celebrated rather than feared."

"You are sounding much like T'Remberale," Spock said softly.

"She is a wise young woman," Amanda replied. "Her mother tells me you have been meditating together. You have been exploring your own katra. Tell me, what have you seen?"

Young Spock hesitated. "I...saw...the other half of myself. I felt the answers I had been searching for were finally at my fingertips."

At his feet, T'Ra stirred and looked up at her parent. Amanda beamed at her son. She did not expect such a straightforward answer.

"That is...wonderful."

"It is illogical," Spock growled. "It is not the job of sentient beings to find fulfillment in such ways."

"It might not be logical, but..."

//Goodbye, Spock.//

The small voice shocked Spock out of the memory.

//T'Ra, do not go yet, please.//

No response came.

The meld released and Spock found his arms empty and still warm from their previous occupant. He looked around himself, and saw nothing. His immediate perimeter was bare. T'Ra was gone.

T'Rem now had one hand on Aesina, and the other on Kirk's meld points. Her face indicated distress, and her posture was slumped in exhaustion. Spock wanted badly to help her, but was paralyzed. Any move might cause his entire being to shatter. His constant was gone. Everything felt wrong. Yet, his mind was functioning normally. His body processes were unchanged. The only difference was that he was alone.

The air buzzed with electricity. For a moment, Spock worried the energy did not transfer but was lost. Then, he saw what could only be described as pure light ignite underneath Aesina. Sparkling tendrils streamed forth from the daemon, and meet with the much thicker streams from Kirk's heart. They entwined and curled together, like water flowing through a riverbed. Psychic energy was supposed to be invisible, having been made of some of the most basic particles on the known universe.

No, this was not to be analyzed logically. This was beautiful, just like his lover. Spock let his thoughts stray in the esoteric direction, but stopped when he thought of T'Ra. He had inadvertently placed a bulwark around these emotions. Releasing those emotions was not an option. Not now.

T'Rem had finally completed her work, and collapsed in a nearby chair. The light had retreated, and Kirk lay on his back as he had before.

Spock immediately grabbed Kirk's hand and kissed, partly out of relief, but secretly he wanted to know he still could feel for this man. Thankfully, the sensation of the cool hand in his caused the familiar spark in his skin. He still loved Kirk, and wanted to be with him more than anything. Through the touch, he knew the captain’s mind had stabilized, and was slowly healing itself.

After months of hardship, they had achieved the impossible. Kirk was whole.

Spock's hand automatically went toward Aesina, longing for as much contact as he could get. As his fingertips brushed her fur, he stopped. The thrumming power was too much for him, as it reminded him of what he had lost. His mental walls proved to be more flimsy than assumed, because emotions swept over Spock in a flash. His limbs could no longer support him and he collapsed to the ground. The sobs came suddenly, and were so violent he was powerless to stop them. He soon felt a slight hand on his shoulder, but such comfort was useless to him. He needed the real thing, but he would never have it again.

Shoving T'Rem away, Spock clumsily got to his feet and stumbled into the bathroom. The last thing he wanted was to be solitary right now, but he wanted the pathetic attempts at comfort even less.


	16. Unity

The Admirality saw fit to lighten the Enterprise's work load after his close call with the Romulans. All of the soldiers had been captured and put into Federation custody. The Olomite sword and the guillotine were poised to be destroyed, and any item made of the rare metal was now considered illegal.

Scotty remained in charge of the ship and led the investigation on what had happened on the planet. The one problem nagging at the engineer's mind was what was found on the Romulan shuttle hidden on the planet - or rather what was not found. The comm logs had no method of recording what transmissions had been relayed, although Uhura did tinker and discover there had been calls to Romulus while the doctor and Spock had been in captivity. There was no proof the vigilantes were in employee of the Empire, and all of them claimed to have acted as free agents. Still, Scotty and McCoy worried that the horrible methods D’Lana discovered were now in the hands of one of the Federation's worst enemies. If such a thing happened, there would be no way of knowing until the technology was used.

As the brass had told them, there was nothing to be done but stay vigilant and prepare for the worst. Kirk, Spock, and McCoy received commendation for their actions, particularly since they had been severely compromised.

Right now, the ship’s doctor had other things on his mind. Spending time with Joanna was always a high point, and having her safe and sound made him overjoyed. However, his daughter was still a teenager, and despite her classes being cancelled for the semester, she was eager to get to her portable comm and see if her friends were okay. McCoy allowed this, which freed up time to take care of another order of business.

"I wish I could trust them, but I can't," Leauna's muffled voice said.

Her face and snout were buried in McCoy’s side while he massaged her neck. He did not want the contact to break, but knew Scotty had done him a huge favor by letting him conduct this meeting himself, and he needed to appear somewhat official.

"Nyota…er…Lieutenant," McCoy said through his comm panel. "Is King Achban ready for me?"

Uhura uttered an affirmative and patched him through. McCoy schooled his emotions before talking to the king of D’Lana's home world. He knew the temptation to break the Prime Directive would be great.

"Captain K….Oh…," King Achban said once his link came through.

“My name is Doctor Leonard McCoy, your majesty. Our captain is still incapacitated.”

McCoy could barely make out the man in the screen since he seemed to be sitting in a dark room. In addition, his voice was shivering. From what he could make out of the man's appearance, his robes were wrapped around him tight, obviously in an attempt to keep warm. Xarth's winter must have been approaching.

"I wanted to inform you personally that Lady D’Lana has died, and the in-firmed men she captured will be sent back to you immediately."

Tension seemed to drain from Achban's body. "Thank you, doctor. It is welcome news she will not be able to harm our citizens anymore. I am truly sorry for what she has done to you. From what I heard, she had tried to kill you."

McCoy nodded. "Yes, more than once. She committed the worst crime imaginable against humans."

"I am aware, and I do know she would have brought the idea back with her to present to our citizens. Due to our predicament, I am sure she would have received some support."

"That is another thing I wanted to speak with you about," McCoy said. "Starfleet had offered to help convert your energy plants to use dilithium. This should help you get your fleet back in order, and help build the infrastructure."

"Doctor, I am indeed grateful for this, but such resources will be expensive, particularly if we are trading with off-worlders. It will also be a temporary solution. This is why I have attempted to join with your Federation."

//Here we go,// Leauna said.

"The first two shipments will be complementary, Your Highness."

"Doctor, you know our culture. Accepting such a generous gift is not acceptable to us. We must have something we could give back, and a way for change to remain sustainable. We cannot survive off charity."

"You're correct, we do not have the resources to give you these materials indefinitely, especially if it will be best used by every Xarth citizen."

The king stiffened. "I know what you are implying, Doctor. You are out of line."

"Am I? One of the citizens you discarded killed a dozen humans and mutilated a dozen more to prove she was somebody. I think this reveals a flaw in your system."

"I find your explanation to be convenient for your point of view, despite their being no way to know her motivations."

"Once I read up on how you treat the least among you, it was not hard to figure out."

"D’Lana only did this because her power made her unbalanced. She made her choices. It had nothing to do with her circumstance or her Dragoon.”

McCoy furrowed his brow. “Dragoon?”

The king appeared horrified for a split second before saying, "There are choices they can make to become part of our society, but they chose not to do them. They all have the ability, but not the willingness."

McCoy squared his jaw. "I admit humans are not perfect, but one thing we did right was discover the answer to poverty is not so simple as you describe. You are so enmeshed in your society and how everything works, you missed what you are really doing to these people, just like you missed how limited your Xarthonium was until it was too late to change the infrastructure. You act like the people you are throwing out of your cities and families are simply criminals and vagrants who chose their lot in life. This cannot be farther from the truth.”

"How can you be so sympathetic toward D’Lana, after all the horrible things she has done?"

"Trust me, I hate D’Lana with all my heart. It doesn’t change the horror that created her.”

Achban's sat down hard. "I do not need you to lecture me about my kingdom, Doctor. Especially when you do not live here. Your Federation claims to respect all cultures, and yet you treat our customs like they are dirt. If you had any principles at all, you would support our entrance into the Federation. Do you believe your own Prime Directive or not?"

//Leo! It’s Jim...//

Leauna's internal voice caused McCoy's heart to skip a beat. She had sensed subtle changes in the atmosphere which could mean something significant had happened with regard to the ritual. He clenched his fists in frustration that he was stuck in a fruitless conversation with a clueless king rather than being able to sprint down the hall and see his friend.

"I do believe in the Prime Directive, but the Federation has rules of its own, one being no caste systems."

"This is not a caste system!" Achban shouted, slamming down his fist. "Your Federation is doing the very thing you claim we are doing. If we were not so desperate, I would reject your humanitarian offer outright. It is clear what you think of our _primitive_ ways."

"In a way you're right, Your Highness," McCoy sighed. "However, we are quite proud to discriminate against laws which do not respect life in all its forms. This is the ultimate goal of every race to accept the infinite diversity, and shirk those who would disrespect it. We cannot have you in our Federation right now, but not because you yourself are flawed. It is because you create flaws in others. We cannot justify the degradation of sentient beings. This view does not deserve our acceptance or even our tolerance. Now, if you excuse me, I have business to attend to. There will be Starfleet officers contacting you within the week."

Achban deflated, revealing a new weariness about him. McCoy did feel sorry for him. This was not an unintelligent man, and he truly wanted to do what was best for his people. Too bad it was only people who resembled himself that he cared about, rather than those who were harder to deal with. There must be some part of him which knew this was wrong, but until that part came out, Kirk was helpless to watch his world continue to deteriorate.

"Safe travels, Doctor," Achban's said, still showing anger in his voice. He clearly still wanted to argue, but his wisdom showed through his restraint.

The second the link disconnected, McCoy was out of his seat and swiftly walking down the hall. His haste was so great, he almost let the door close on Leauna's tail.

He nearly ran into the door before he realized the light indicating 'no entry' was on. He keyed in his medical override and walked in. He was met with T'Remberale meditating silently in the couch, and Kirk sleeping on the bed with Aesina wrapped in his arms. He looked around for Spock, who he expected to be glued to Kirk's bedside. There was no sign of him. McCoy knew he should not disturb T'Rem while meditating, even though not knowing the outcome of the ritual was eating at him.

Kirk groaned in his slumber, and McCoy raced to his bedside, hoping he would be stirring soon. He felt every effort and hardship they had gone through would be somehow justified in the next few minutes. Yet, he was distracted by Spock's absence. It made no sense he was not here.

~~~~~~~~~

Mentally, something clicked. The dreams stopped being abstract and meaningless and finally organized. There were colors and shapes and words cutting through the fog.

He knew it had been a long time since he had coherent thought, and much had happened to him during this time. He could not recall exactly what transpired, but intense isolation was the primary memory for most of that time.

//Jim, oh my God. I can feel you.//

Aesina? Could it really be true? Was the fear of watching the guillotine blade falling for naught? Had he been saved after all?

No. He had not been saved, but Aesina was with him. Even in the depths of unconsciousness, she was there. He had come home.

He forced himself awake, his eyes immediately regretting the quick transition from a REM cycle.

"Jim?"

Bones' voice was there, of course, but he was not who he wanted to see. Although his recollection was vague, he knew Bones was by his side during his "foggy time." There was another he needed to see.

"Jim," he heard inches from his ear. He got enough awareness to realize in his arms lay a form more familiar to him than his own face. Not only did the soft fur brush at his arms, but a deep connection bridged the nonexistent distance between their bodies. Every sensation and feeling were shared between, just as humans and souls should be.

Kirk surged with energy and squeezed Aesina so tight he would have choked her if she were an actual animal.

"'Sina! Oh my God. I can't believe this! You came back to me."

"I can't believe I lost you! I will never let that happen again!"

Man and daemon shouted nothing phrases simultaneously, unable to contain their joy at being touched in such ways. They rolled over the bed, engaging in horseplay much like in their younger years. They enjoyed this moment, vowing to never take their togetherness for granted again.

"Jim!" McCoy called again, happiness apparent in his voice. Kirk looked up at him, grin splitting his face. He had no qualms about physically parting with Aesina, because now they felt each other always. Kirk practically leapt toward his best friend and enveloped him in a hug, savoring the feeling if truly connecting with another. McCoy returned the fierce embrace while both their daemons met on the floor, leaping and playing with each other.

"Shit, Jim," McCoy said, tearing up and unwilling to let his friend go. "I can't believe your back!"

"Me either," Kirk laughed, breaking the hug and squeezing McCoy's arms. "How did you do it? How did I get her back?"

"I'm not sure yet," McCoy admitted. "I still haven't talked to Spock, and T'Remberale is meditating."

"Spock?" Kirk said, touched. "Well, I guess that makes since with him being a telepath and all. Who's T'...that other one?"

McCoy's face fell slightly. "How much do you remember about the past few months, Jim?"

The question was heavy. Something major must have happened.

"Not much," he replied honestly. "I know I didn't have Aesina for a long time, and I felt pretty much like a sack of potatoes. I don't really have any details, though."

Now McCoy looked even worse.

"What is it? Did I decide to invest in the Orion slave trade during my incapacity?"

He asked it jokingly, although he knew it was not very funny. Kirk was desperate to keep his mood high. His daemon was part of him again and all should be right with the world.

"Nothing, Jim," McCoy said, squeezing the man’s shoulders.

A sound resembling human nasal distress came from the direction of the bathroom. Despite the jubilation of the past few minutes, they all heard it.

"Who’s in the bathroom?" Kirk asked, confused.

"Probably Spock,” McCoy said without thinking. A little too quickly, he added, “I guess it had something to do with the ritual. I can't imagine it was an easy process."

"I don't care how hard it was, Bones. If what you say is true, I owe him a lot."

"Wait," McCoy said, blocking his way.

"Hey, what gives?" Aesina said while bouncing on Leauna’s back.

"He might not be ready to talk to you right now," Leauna said. "Maybe you should talk to the rest of the crew first. I mean, that doesn't sound like a sound Spock normally makes. He might not want to be seen right now. Whatever he helped do might have taken a toll on him."

"I've never known him to meditate in the bathroom, so you must be right," Kirk said with a laugh. He looked past the partition to the living area to spot the female Vulcan sitting still as a statue. "Is that T'Rem...whatever?"

"Yes, that's her."

"Well, I guess I should wait until the Vulcans come back to reality to thank them. Man, even after all that’s happened to them, they are pretty damn incredible."

Again, McCoy's face fell. Kirk would have to get to the bottom of whatever was bugging him later. Obviously something had happened while he had no soul. He could not imagine what, though. He should not have been capable of speaking Standard, let alone participating in any important developments.

"Go ahead and tell the crew, Jim,” McCoy said. “I’ll see to Spock.”

Kirk nodded as he sprinted to the door. He had never felt so glad to be human - to feel human. It was a rush he wanted to share with the world. He looked to his best friend with a glowing expression. He looked tired and worn out. Knowing McCoy, he was suffering right alongside him.

"It's okay, Bones," Kirk said. "Everything's okay now."

~~~~~~~~~

McCoy knew he should not have reacted so obviously downcast when Kirk brought up his lack of memory. He should have been supporting his friend now that he was finally whole again. McCoy did not use the term 'miracle' often, but in this case it was appropriate. Kirk being returned to him was nothing short of a miracle.

Yet, as with every good thing given to them, there would be a downside. Jim clearly did not recall the past months after he was severed. While a vast majority of that time was worth forgetting, the latter weeks were not. Spock had made Herculean strides by sharing himself with another. He was already shaken enough by Kirk's rejection of the last meld. McCoy knew the secrecy meant the ritual would not be free of consequences, he just hoped they were not far-reaching.

McCoy went to the bathroom door and gently knocked.

"Do not come in here, Leonard," snapped Spock.

Immediately, McCoy's heart clenched. His friend had never spoken to him in such a curt manner, even while in great pain.

"Spock," McCoy said. "Jim is okay. Whatever you and T'Rem did, it worked."

Silence.

"Spock, this is good news. What's the matter? Do you need anything?"

"I need nothing. Please leave."

McCoy sighed. That settled it. Not only was Spock acting incredibly unVulcan, but he was isolating himself. Damned if he was not going to know what was wrong. McCoy entered to find Spock sitting against the wall with his legs crossed. His breathing was shaky, and his posture indicated an epic internal struggle.

Then it hit him. T'Ra was nowhere to be found.

"I told you not to come in here," Spock growled, although he made no effort to expel McCoy.

"Where's T'Ra?" McCoy demanded. Leauna trotted into the bathroom to look behind every crevice she could. She silently told McCoy there was no other daemon in the small space.

"Spock," Leauna said, her body trembling. She stood right in front of the Vulcan, stopping short of touching him. A missing daemon was never a good sign. Combine that with Spock's posture, and they knew they were faced with another potential tragedy. McCoy did not know if he could take anymore of this.

Spock took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Stay away from me, Leauna."

"Don't talk to me like that," she replied. "Answer us, please."

"Do not push me, Doctor," Spock said through gritted teeth, now looking at McCoy's face. "If you must know, T'Ra is now a Vulcan katra. We needed my external bond's energy to reestablish Jim's."

McCoy let out a sigh of relief, comforted to know Spock still and his soul. But trepidation crept up again. Yes, Spock had a soul, but he did not have a daemon, and now he was in a state of deep mourning. His heart broke. This was something no human was meant to go through with a clear head.

Leauna's stance relaxed, and looked up at the Vulcan with soft eyes. She reached out her snout toward him, but it was ignored.

"I will be fine in time, Leonard. I just cannot be around Jim for approximately two more hours. I am in no state, especially since he does not remember our romantic liaison. I will try and seek comfort in him, and he will not be able to reciprocate."

"Don't make light of this, Spock." McCoy said, although other words escaped him. This had been Spock's choice, and what was done was done. No use in lecturing him or finding fixes. His Vulcan friend appeared to have resigned himself to the situation.

"Doctor," came T'Remberale's voice from behind him. "You must let Spock regain his..."

"How could you let him do this?" McCoy shouted, staring at the woman with dangerous eyes.

T'Remberale's face did not change. "If you must know, I did try to convince him this was a poor decision, but he insisted. It was difficult for me to find sound logic for my position."

"Fuck logic!" McCoy shouted. "This should not happen. I can't gain one friend back only to lose another."

"Spock is not lost to you! If you cannot accept him with no daemon..."

"Don't twist what I said!"

"Kroyka!" Spock shouted. "I find it distasteful you are talking about me like I am not sitting a meter away, and cannot make choices for myself. I must be alone right now, and I would appreciate if you let me be!" Spock closed his eyes, shutting out both his friends.

McCoy sighed. He felt wrong leaving Spock here, but he knew a mandate when he heard one. This would not be the end, though. This was still the captain's quarters. Spock would have to come out sometime.

"T'Rem," McCoy said after the bathroom door closed behind him. "I think it's best you go see your daughter now."

"Doctor," she replied. "I know you are used to interfering with things which do not concern you, but I implore you to restrain yourself in this instance."

Again, McCoy felt like he had been slapped. He was only trying to help, not break the Prime Directive. T'Remberale turned and left the room without another word, leaving McCoy alone in the cramped quarters with his thoughts.

"Our interference has not made too much of an impact as of late," Leuana said softly, again nuzzling against McCoy's leg.

"I can't just sit back and watch everyone suffer," McCoy replied. "I refuse to. I should have stopped Spock. I should have..."

Tears pushed their way out of McCoy's eyes as the burden of responsibility made itself known. It was one thing when four hundred people depended on you - it was another when your friends and loved ones were impacted by your mistakes. Feeling all too confined by the room he stood in, he left to find Jim. The least he could give the man was a proper celebration.

~~~~~~~~~

The entire day had been full of good drinks and even better friends. Kirk had been knocking on doors and telling every senior officer he could find about his good fortune. They all shared in his glee and immediately gathered in the mess hall to give this event the proper gaiety. Aesina had hung from his neck the entire time, nuzzling his face as much as possible

Scotty led the drinking festivities, which Kirk suspected was a cathartic experience due to his being in command when they first met D’Lana. All of his closest friends in the crew – Uhura, Sulu, Checov, Giotto - graced him with a great deal of attention. McCoy did eventually show up as well, and joined in the fun with others. The only conspicuous absence was Spock. True, he did not usually participate in parties, but he was still an important part of making this bliss possible.

"I still can't believe it," M'Benga said to him as the spoke separately from everyone else.

"Everyone's telling me that," Kirk said while sipping his drink. "I guess I was pretty bad off."

"Yeah, I bet you’re happy to be getting off desk duty..."

"Hold it," Kirk said, confused. His fingertips had been stroking various parts of Aesina’s body all night, and was now tangled in the tail. "I was still working? How is that possible?"

M'Benga's brow furrowed. "You don't remember?"

"The past several months are a blur, Geoff. I assumed it was because there was nothing to remember."

"No. Mr. Spock had melded with you right away. I don't know what he did exactly, but those melds made you function on an almost normal level for the entire time. I actually had to caution you about a week ago that a telepathic link was starting to form."

Kirk's stomach dropped. The idea he survived without Aesina was disturbing to him, and cheapened getting her back. If he was functioning so well, why were all these people so damn happy? This did not make any sense. However, the point he focused on was Spock. Something within him ignited at the idea of the Vulcan melding with him without permission. Did he really take it upon himself to be a daemon replacement? What gave him the right? Aesina's shaking comforted him that he was not alone in this.

"I'm sorry, Jim," M'Benga said sincerely. "I thought you knew."

Kirk had hoped his joy would endure longer than this, but he should have known better. He walked away from his colleague and made a beeline for Bones - his supposed friend. McCoy must have known about what happened, and yet he did not stop it. McCoy was a man with deep moral convictions, particularly against “Vulcan voodoo.” What possessed him to let this happen?

Once he reached McCoy - who was mingling with a young female botanist - he grabbed him by the arm and unceremoniously dragged him into the hall.

“Jim. What the..."

"What the hell, Bones?" Kirk shouted, his arms flying up in the air.

"Jim, I..."

"The melds, Bones!"

Aesina continued, leaning toward the other man so they were nose-to-nose. "You let Spock violate our mind while we were incapacitated. Did you have any inkling if it would be a good idea - of how I would feel?"

McCoy slumped in defeat, Leauna drooping at his side. Kirk did not care about his friend's feelings at the moment, especially since his own had been so grossly disregarded.

"I don’t see why you are so upset about this. Who told you anyway?”

"M'Benga thought I remembered," he said. "Were you even planning to tell me?"

"Of course I was planning on telling you, Jim! I wouldn't keep that from you. I just wanted you to enjoy having Aesina back for a while."

"So you were patronizing me!"

"Jim!" Leauna pleaded. "Calm down! We should go to our quarters to discuss this."

"No, I want to discuss it right here!" Jim said as he gestured to the empty hallway. "Apparently everyone knows about my life but me, so it shouldn't matter."

"Jim, why are you so upset? Spock saved your life! You would not even have this moment if not for him!"

Kirk was shaking with rage. "You're justifying this? I could have lived until you found a cure."

"That wasn't a guarantee. We couldn't lose you," McCoy said, now sounded incredibly small.

"We?" Kirk laughed. "So you and Spock were in this together, huh? What did you do, beg him? It must have taken quite a bit since he doesn't give a shit about me."

"He loves you, Jim!" McCoy shouted. His face fell immediately, knowing he said something he should not have.

"He...what?" Kirk said. A part of him softened, but a greater part could not be touched by this. If anything, the fire within him burned hotter. He started putting pieces together from the past few hours. McCoy's words to him. Spock's conspicuous absence. M'Benga's revelation about the telepathic link.

"Bones," Aesina asked. "Were Jim and Spock...together while I was gone?"

"Jim," McCoy said, clearly sensing Jim would not be happy with an affirmative answer. "What's gotten into you? We made it possible for you to be here now!"

"Answer the question!" he shouted, making Leauna flinch.

McCoy sighed. It clearly took every ounce of energy he had to say, "Yes."

Kirk could barely speak. He clenched his fists and looked away from McCoy - the man who had allowed Spock to take complete advantage of him.

"That sick perverted Vulcan," Kirk said, now with tears brimming.

"Jesus, Jim. You know Spock would never..."

"He would, Bones! He did! You let it happen! I had no free choice. Any mental connection with him would have influenced me. He could have dictated any feelings he wanted! Spock isn't stupid! Neither are you! You let that bastard rape me!"

"I would never..."

"How did you know he loved me?" Jim demanded.

McCoy let out a sound which would have been interpreted as a whimper in another man. "He told me...right after we beamed back from the colony."

"Was this before or after he melded with me?"

"It doesn't matter!"

"Yes it does! Before or after?"

McCoy rubbed his face. "Before."

"And you still let him do the meld? I would have had no choice but to love him back, Bones!"

"It wasn't like that! I didn't know he was going to do the melds until they were already done. By then, you were awake and consenting."

"Of course I was consenting! The bastard had me under mind control!"

"Listen to yourself!" Leauna shouted as she reared up and pinned him with her front hooves. "Do you have any idea what Spock has done for you? What he sacrificed?"

The captain was initially shocked stiff by Leauna's action, but Aesina stepped in and swatted the hooves off, pushing the other daemon back to the ground.

"He's done quite enough for us, thank you very much," Aesina said with venom in her voice.

"Jim, whatever you think happened...it was never to hurt you."

"It never is, is it?" Kirk replied. "My two best friends violate me in every way possible, and I'm supposed to say thank you because it was done with good intentions? I bet Spock didn't even know how perverted he was until he saw me vulnerable."

"Actually Captain, Vulcans are incapable of what you are suggesting."

Kirk and McCoy jumped to see Spock standing merely a couple meters away from them, his hands clasped behind his back and his face an impassive mask. The mere sight of him made Kirk want to vomit. The idea he was made to touch that body - to love this pointed eared freak - he could not fathom it. How had he taken this man on as a friend when he did not even respect his rights?

Kirk launched himself at Spock and grabbed fistfuls of his tunic while pinning him against the wall.

"Jim!" McCoy shouted. "Think! Look at Spock! How is he different?"

The words barely registered with the blood pumping in Kirk's head. "You Vulcan bastard, " he growled. "Go ahead. I dare you to recite protocol about assaulting a fellow officer, because I really don't give a shit about your rank or even your Vulcan strength right now."

"Aesina," Leauna shouted. "Stop..."

The monkey daemon bit the advancing Leauna on the leg, causing McCoy to double over in pain.

"What do you have to say for yourself, Spock? You thought if you made me love you all would be hunky dory?"

"Ask him where T'Ra is!" Leauna moaned.

"Oh will you..." Kirk stopped as he received a signal from Aesina that there was no daemon to be found around Spock. That silver bird whose silence and constant loyalty became part of Spock's person was missing.

"Where is she?" Kirk said to Spock reluctantly. He let none of the anger leave his eyes.

"Gone," Spock said evenly, his eyes unreadable. "She became an internal Vulcan katra with no sentience. It was the only way to put you back together."

Kirk did not know what they expected him to say to this, but it was nothing compassionate. His anger toward Spock did not abate. There was a strange feeling of déjà vu about the position he was in, but he quickly ignored it.

"That was probably the best thing that ever happened to you, finally rid of that dreaded human half of yours," he said after a moment of contemplation. He let Spock go, uncomfortable with the growing sense of familiarity with his actions. "Look at you. You're not even affected."

"No Jim, he..."

"Bones, why the hell are you defending him?" He turned back to Spock. "Listen, pointy. I don't know what you were expecting with this shit. I think your guilty conscience got the best of you and you wanted to see if I'd love you back with all my faculties. Well guess what? I don't. I never will. What you did to me was unforgivable, and I have half a mind to turn you in to Starfleet."

Spock was still as a statue. "You...would be well within your rights, Captain."

"Yeah, but you did give Aesina back, and for that I guess I owe you something. I'm not gonna turn you in, but I don't want to see your stony-eyed face again." He turned to McCoy. "And I hope you have an attitude change soon, or I might have to say the same. I know you're the chief medical officer and this might be difficult, but you know I can find a way."

With that, Kirk stomped down the hall back to his own quarters, fuming about how his two best friends could have betrayed him so completely. When he returned to his quarters, T'Remberale was gone, but the scent of Vulcan incense remained.

~~~~~~~~~

McCoy was left dumbstruck at what had just happened. His heart was already on the verge of breaking after what Spock had given up, now he was questioning every decision he had made with regards to Kirk in the last few months. Had he really been blind? Had Spock's melds really been rape?

The Vulcan himself was standing in the same spot, making no effort to smooth the two wrinkled spots on his tunic. His hands were behind his back and stood against the wall. His brown eyes stared unblinking at the floor, his breath barely showing. At the moment he resembled a statue more than a man.

McCoy shook his head in anger. There was no ill intent. Spock made no effort to seduce Kirk. If anything he had tried to prevent him from becoming influenced. Spock had shown the care of a mother to her child, and had no other motives but to keep Kirk alive. He did not know why his friend was acting so violently against what they had done.

"Spock, I..."

"Doctor," Spock interrupted. "I think it would be best if you did not associate with me any longer."

McCoy was taken aback. "You can't let what Jim said get to you. He'll remember."

"The captain has every right to be upset. We did not ask his consent, nor did he understand what the melds entailed."

"Spock, please don't shut me out. If there was ever a time you needed a friend..."

His First Officer did not let him finish, but walked away briskly in the opposite direction of his cabin.


End file.
